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"Just  by  the  merest  chance,  could  your  name 
be  Mickey?" 


MICHAEL 
O'HALLORAN 

BY  GENE  STRATTON-PORTER 

AUTHOR  OF 

THE  HARVESTER.  FRECKLES,  A  GIRL 
OF    THE   LIMBERLOST,  LADDIE,   ETC. 


ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

FRANCES    ROGERS 


GROSSET  &   DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS  NEW    YORK 


Copyright,  1915,  1916,  by 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of 

translation  into  foreign  languages, 

including  the  Scandinavian 


TO 

IVK^NING-FACE 


2234S01 


I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 


CONTENTS 

Happy  Home  in  Sunrise  Alley    .       .       . 
Moccasins  and  Lady  Slippers      .        .        . 
S.  O.  S  ......... 

"Bearer  of  Morning"    ..... 

Little  Brother         ...... 

The  Song  of  a  Bird       ..... 

Peaches'  Preference  in  Blessings         .        r 
Big  Brother    ....... 

James  Jr.  and  Malcolm        .... 

The  Wheel  of  Life  ...... 

The  Advent  of  Nancy  and  Peter 
Feminine  Reasoning      ..... 

A  Safe  Proposition        ..... 

An  Orphans'  Home       ..... 

A  Particular  Nix    ...... 

The  Fingers  in  the  Pie  ..... 

Initiations  in  an  Ancient  and  Honourable 
Brotherhood        ...... 

Malcolm  and  the  Hermit  Thrush 
Establishing  Protectorates   .... 

Mickey's  Miracle  ...... 


CHARACTERS 

MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN,  Who  Was  Square. 

PEACHES,  Michael's  Family. 

THE  SUNSHINE  NURSE,  Who  Helped  Mickey. 

DOUGLAS  BRUCE,  A  Corporation  Lawyer. 

LESLIE  WiNTON,Who  Demanded  Joy  From  Life. 

MR.  MINTURN,A  Multiopolis  Politician. 

MRS.  MINTURN,  A  Woman  Devoted  to  Society. 

JAMES  JR.  and  MALCOLM,  the  Minturns'  Sons. 

MR.  TOWER,  a  Tutor. 

PETER  HARDING,  a  Farmer. 

MRS.  HARDING,  Peter's  Wife. 

JUNIOR,  MARY,  and  BOBBIE,  Harding  Children. 

MR.  CHAFFNER,  Editor  of  the  Herald. 


MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

CHAPTER  I 
HAPPY  HOME  IN  SUNRISE  ALLEY 

W  KID,  come  on  !     Be  square  !" 

11  You  look  out  what  you  say  to  me." 
"But  ain't  you  going  to  keep  your  word  ?" 
"Mickey,  do  you  want  your  head  busted?" 
"  Naw!     But  I  did  your  work  so  you  could  loaf;  now  I 
want  the  pay  you  promised  me." 

"  Let's  see  you  get  it !   Better  take  it  from  me,  hadn't  you  ?  " 
"  You're  twice  my  size;  you  know  I  can't,  Jimmy!" 
"  Then  you  know  it  too,  don't  you  ?  " 

"Now  look  here  kid,  it's  'cause  you're  getting  so  big  that 
folks  will  be  buying  quicker  of  a  little  fellow  like  me;  so  you've 
laid  in  the  sun  all  afternoon  while  I  been  running  my  legs 
about  off  to  sell  your  papers;  and  when  the  last  one  is  gone, 
I  come  and  pay  you  what  they  sold  for;  now  it's  up  to  you  to 
do  what  you  promised" 

"  Why  didn't  you  keep  it  when  you  had  it  ?  " 
'"Cause  that  ain't  business  !     I  did  what  I  promised  fair 
and  square;  I  was  giving  you  a  chance  to  be  square  too.19 
"Oh  !     Well  next  time  you  won't  be  such  a  fool!" 
Jimmy  turned  to  step  from  the  gutter  to  the  sidewalk. 

3 


4  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Two  things  happened  to  him  simultaneously:  Mickey  be- 
came a  projectile.  He  smashed  with  the  force  of  a  wiry 
fist  on  the  larger  boy's  head,  while  above  both,  an  athletic 
arm  gripped  him  by  the  collar. 

Douglas  Bruce  was  hurrying  to  §ee  a  client  before  he 
should  leave  his  office;  but  in  passing  a  florist's  window  his 
«ye  was  attracted  by  a  sight  so  beautiful  he  paused  an  in- 
stant, considering.  It  was  spring;  the  Indians  were  com- 
ing down  to  Multiopolis  to  teach  people  what  the  wood 
Gods  had  put  into  their  hearts  about  flower  magic. 

The  watcher  scarcely  had  realized  the  exquisite  loveli- 
ness of  a  milk-white  birch  basket  filled  with  bog  moss  of 
silvery  green,  in  which  were  set  maidenhair  and  three  yel- 
low lady  slippers,  until  beside  it  was  placed  another  woven 
of  osiers  blood  red,  moss  carpeted  and  bearing  five  pink 
moccasin  flowers,  faintly  lined  with  red  lavender;  between 
them  rosemary  and  white  ladies'  tresses.  A  flush  crept 
over  the  lean  face  of  the  Scotsman.  He  saw  a  vision. 
Over  those  baskets  bent  a  girl,  beautiful  as  the  flowers. 
Plainly  as  he  visualized  the  glory  of  the  swamp,  Douglas 
Bruce  pictured  the  woman  he  loved  above  the  orchids. 
While  he  lingered,  his  heart  warmed,  glowing,  his  wonder- 
ful spring  day  made  more  wonderful  by  a  vision  not  ade- 
quately describable,  on  his  ear  fell  Mickey's  admonition: 
"Be  square!" 

He  sent  one  hasty  glance  toward  the  gutter.  He  saw  a 
sullen-faced  newsboy  of  a  size  that  precluded  longer  suc- 
cess at  paper  selling,  because  public  sympathy  goes  to  the 
little  fellows.  Before  him  stood  one  of  these  same  little 
fellows,  lean,  tow-haired,  and  blue-eyed,  clean  of  face,  neat 


HAPPY  HOME  IN  SUNRISE  ALLEY          5 

in  dress;  with  a  peculiar  modulation  in  his  voice  that 
caught  Douglas  squarely  in  the  heart.  He  turned  again 
to  the  flowers,  but  as  his  eyes  revelled  in  beauty,  his  ears, 
despite  the  shuffle  of  passing  feet,  and  the  clamour  of  cars, 
lost  not  one  word  of  what  was  passing  in  the  gutter,  while 
with  each,  slow  anger  surged  higher.  Mickey,  well  aware 
that  his  first  blow  would  be  all  the  satisfaction  coming  to 
him,  put  the  force  of  his  being  into  his  punch.  At  the 
same  instant  Douglas  thrust  forth  a  hand  that  had  pulled 
for  Oxford  and  was  yet  in  condition. 

"Aw,  you  big  stiff!"  gasped  Jimmy,  twisting  an  as- 
tonished neck  to  see  what  was  happening  above  and  in  his 
rear  so  surprisingly.  Had  that  little  Mickey  O'Halloran 
gone  mad  to  hit  him  ?  Mickey  standing  back,  his  face  up- 
turned, was  quite  as  surprised  as  Jimmy. 

"What  did  he  promise  you  for  selling  his  papers?"  de- 
manded a  deep  voice. 

"Twen — ty-five,"  answered  Mickey,  with  all  the  force 
of  inflection  in  his  power.  "And  if  you  heard  us,  Mister, 
you  heard  him  own  up  he  was  owing  it." 

"I  did,"  answered  Douglas  Bruce  tersely.  Then  to 
Jimmy:  "Hand  him  over  twenty-five  cents." 

Jimmy  glared  upward,  but  what  he  saw  and  the  tighten- 
ing of  the  hand  on  his  collar  were  convincing.  He  drew 
from  his  pocket  five  nickels,  dropping  them  into  the  out- 
stretched hand  of  Douglas,  who  passed  them  to  Mickey, 
the  soiled  fingers  of  whose  left  hand  closed  over  them, 
while  his  right  snatched  off  his  cap.  Fear  was  on  his  face, 
excitement  was  in  his  eyes,  triumph  was  in  his  voice,  while 
a  grin  of  comradeship  curved  his  lips. 


6  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Many  thanks,  Boss,"  he  said.  "And  would  you  add 
to  them  by  keeping  that  strangle  hold  'til  you  give  me  just 
two  seconds  the  start  of  him?"  He  wheeled,  darting 
through  the  crowd. 

"Mickey!"  cried  Douglas  Bruce.     "Mickey,  wait!" 

But  Mickey  was  half  a  block  away  turning  into  an  alley. 
The  man's  grip  tightened  a  twist. 

"You'll  find  Mickey's  admonition  good,"  he  said.  "I 
advise  you  to  take  it.  'Be  square!'  And  two  things:  first, 
I've  got  an  eye  on  the  Mickeys  of  this  city.  If  I  ever 
again  find  you  imposing  on  him  or  any  one  else,  I'll  put 
you  where  you  can't.  Understand  ?  Second,  who  is  he  ? " 

"Mickey!"  answered  the  boy. 

"Mickey  who?"  asked  Douglas. 

"How'd  I  know?"  queried  Jimmy. 

"You  don't  know  his  name?"  pursued  Douglas. 

"Naw,  I  don't!"  said  the  boy. 

"Where  does  he  live?"  continued  Douglas. 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Jimmy. 

"If  you  have  a  charge  to  prefer,  I'll  take  that  youngster 
in  for  you,"  offered  a  policeman  passing  on  his  beat. 

"He  was  imposing  on  a  smaller  newsboy.  I  made  him 
quit,"  Douglas  explained.  "That's  all." 

"Oh!"  said  the  officer,  withdrawing  his  hand.  Away 
sped  Jimmy;  with  him  went  all  chance  of  identifying 
Mickey,  but  Bruce  thought  he  would  watch  for  him.  Ke 
was  such  an  attractive  little  fellow. 

Mickey  raced  through  the  first  alley,  down  a  street,  then 
looked  behind.  Jimmy  was  not  in  sight. 

"Got  him  to  dodge  now,"  he  muttered.     "If  he  rver 


HAPPY  HOME  IN  SUNRISE  ALLEY          7 

gets  a  grip  on  me  he'll  hammer  me  meller!  I'm  going  to 
have  a  bulldog  if  I  half  starve  to  buy  it.  Maybe  the 
pound  would  give  me  one.  I'll  see  to-morrow." 

He  looked  long,  then  started  homeward,  which  meant 
to  jump  on  a  car  and  ride  for  miles,  then  follow  streets  and 
alleys  again.  Finally  he  entered  a  last  alley  that  faced 
due  east.  A  compass  could  not  have  pointed  more  di- 
rectly toward  the  rising  sun;  while  there  was  at  least  half 
an  hour  each  clear  morning  when  rickety  stairs,  wavering 
fire-escapes,  flapping  washes,  and  unkept  children  were 
submerged  in  golden  light.  Long  ago  it  had  been  named. 
By  the  time  of  Mickey's  advent  Sunrise  Alley  was  as  much 
a  part  of  the  map  of  Multiopolis  as  Biddle  Boulevard,  and 
infinitely  more  pleasing  in  name.  He  began  climbing  in- 
terminable stairs.  At  the  top  of  the  last  flight  he  unlocked 
his  door  to  enter  his  happy  home;  for  Mickey  had  a  home, 
and  it  was  a  happy  one.  No  one  else  lived  in  it,  while  all 
it  contained  was  his. 

Mickey  knew  three  things  about  his  father:  he  had  had 
one,  he  was  not  square,  and  he  drank  himself  to  death.  He 
could  not  remember  his  father,  but  he  knew  many  men  en- 
gaged in  the  occupation  of  his  passing,  so  he  well  under- 
stood why  his  mother  never  expressed  any  regrets. 

Vivid  in  his  mind  was  her  face,  anxious  and  pale,  but 
twinkling;  her  body  frail  and  overtaxed,  but  hitting  back  at 
life  uncomplainingly.  Bad  things  happened,  but  she  ex- 
plained how  they  might  have  been  worse;  so  fed  on  this  sop, 
and  watching  her  example,  Mickey  grew  like  her.  The 
difficult  time  was  while  she  sat  over  a  sewing  machine  to  be 
with  him.  When  he  grew  stout-legged  and  self-reliant,  he 


s 


MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 


could  be  sent  after  the  food,  to  carry  the  rent,  and  to  sell 
papers,  then  she  could  work  by  the  day,  earn  more,  have 
better  health,  while  what  both  brought  home  paid  the  rent 
of  the  top  room  back,of  as  bad  a  shamble  as  a  self-respecting 
city  would  allow;  kept  them  fed  satisfyingly  if  not  nour- 
ishingly,and  allowedthemto  slip  away  many  a  nickel  for  the 
xainydaythatshe always  explained  would  come.  And  it  did. 
One  morning  she  could  not  get  up;  the  following  Mickey 
gave  all  their  savings  to  a  man  with  a  wagon  to  take  her  to 
a  nice  place  to  rest.  The  man  was  sure  about  it  being  a 
nice  place.  She  had  told  Mickey  so  often  what  to  do  if 
this  ever  happened,  that  when  it  did,  all  that  was  necessary 
was  to  remember  what  he  had  been  told.  After  it  was 
over  and  the  nice  place  had  been  paid  for,  with  the  nickels 
and  the  sewing  machine,  with  enough  left  for  the  first 
month's  rent,  Mickey  faced  life  alone.  But  he  knew  ex- 
actly what  to  do,  because  she  had  told  him.  She  had  even 
written  it  down  lest  he  forget.  It  was  so  simple  that  only 
a  boy  who  did  not  mind  his  mother  could  have  failed.  The 
formula  worked  perfectly. 


Morning:  Get  up  early.  Wash  your 
face,  brush  your  clothes.  Eat  what  was 
left  from  supper  for  breakfast.  Put  your 
bed  to  air,  then  go  out  with  your  papers. 
Dont  be  afraid  to  offer  them,  or  to  do  work 
of  any  sort  you  have  strength  for;  but  be 
deathly  afraid  to  beg,  to  lie,  or  to  steal, 
while  if  you  starve,  freeze,  or  die,  never, 
never  touch  any  kind  of  drink. 


HAPPY  HOME  IN  SUNRISE  ALLEY          9 

Any  fellow  could  do  that;  Mickey  told  dozens  of  them 
so. 

He  got  along  so  well  he  could  pay  the  rent  each  month, 
dress  in  whole  clothing,  have  enough  to  eat,  often  cooked 
food  on  the  little  gasoline  stove,  if  he  were  not  too  tired  to 
cook  it,  and  hide  nickels  in  the  old  place  daily.  He  had  a 
bed  and  enough  cover;  he  could  get  water  in  the  hall  at  the 
foot  of  the  flight  of  stairs  leading  to  his  room  for  his  bath, 
to  scrub  the  floor,  and  wash  the  dishes.  From  two  years 
on,  he  had  helped  his  mother  with  every  detail  of  her 
housekeeping;  he  knew  exactly  what  must  be  done. 

It  was  much  more  dreadful  than  he  thought  it  would  be 
to  come  home  alone,  and  eat  supper  by  himself,  but  if  he 
sold  papers  until  he  was  almost  asleep  where  he  stood,  he 
found  he  went  to  sleep  as  soon  as  he  reached  home  and  had 
supper.  He  did  not  awaken  until  morning;  then  he  could 
hurry  his  work  and  get  ahead  of  the  other  boys,  and  maybe 
sell  to  their  customers.  It  might  be  bad  to  be  alone,  bm 
always  he  could  remember  her,  and  make  her  seem  present 
by  doing  every  day  exactly  what  she  told  him.  Then, 
after  all,  being  alone  was  a  very  wonderful  thing  compared 
with  having  parents  who  might  beat  and  starve  him  and 
take  the  last  penny  he  earned,  not  leaving  enough  to  keep 
him  from  being  hungry  half  the  time. 

When  Mickey  looked  at  some  of  the  other  boys,  and 
heard  many  of  them  talk,  he  almost  forgot  the  hourly 
hunger  for  his  mother,  in  thankfulness  that  he  did  not  have 
a  father  and  that  his  mother  had  been  herself.  Mickey 
felt  sure  that  if  she  had  been  any  one  of  the  mothers  of 
most  other  boys  he  knew,  he  would  not  have  gone  home  at 


io  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

all.  He  could  endure  cold,  hunger,  and  loneliness,  but  he 
felt  that  he  had  no  talent  for  being  robbed,  beaten,  and 
starved;  while  lately  he  had  fully  decided  upon  a  dog  for 
company,  when  he  could  find  the  right  one. 

Mickey  unlocked  his  door,  entering  for  his  water  bucket. 
Such  was  his  faith  in  his  environment  that  he  relocked  the 
door  while  he  went  to  the  water  tap.  Returning  to  the 
room  he  again  turned  the  key,  then  washed  his  face  and 
hands.  He  looked  at  the  slip  nailed  on  the  wall  where  she 
had  put  it.  He  knew  every  word  of  it,  but  always  it  com- 
forted him  to  see  her  familiar  writing,  to  read  aloud  what  to 
do  next  as  if  it  were  her  voice  speaking  to  him.  Evening: 
"Make  up  your  bed."  Mickey  made  his.  "Wash  any 
dirty  dishes."  He  had  a  few  so  he  washed  them.  "  Sweep 
your  floor."  He  swept.  "Always  prepare  at  least  one 
hot  thing  for  supper."  He  shook  the  gasoline  tank  to  the 
little  stove.  It  sounded  full  enough,  so  he  went  to  the  cup- 
board his  mother  had  made  from  a  small  packing  case. 
There  were  half  a  loaf  of  bread  wrapped  in  its  oiled  paper, 
with  two  bananas  discarded  by  Joe  of  the  fruit  stand.  He 
examined  his  pocket,  although  he  knew  perfectly  what  it 
contained.  Laying  back  enough  to  pay  for  his  stock  the 
next  day,  then  counting  in  his  twenty-five  cents,  he  had 
forty  cents  left.  He  put  thirty  in  the  rent  box,  starting  out 
with  ten.  Five  paid  for  a  bottle  of  milk,  three  for  cheese, 
two  for  an  egg  for  breakfast. 

Then  he  went  home.  At  the  foot  of  the  fire-escape  that 
he  used  in  preference  to  the  stairs,  he  met  a  boy  he  knew 
tugging  a  heavy  basket. 

"Take  an  end  for  a  nickel,"  said  the  boy. 


HAPPY  HOME  IN  SUNRISE  ALLEY         n 

"Thanks,"  said  Mickey.  "  It's  my  time  to  dine.  'Sides, 
I  been  done  once  to-day." 

"If  you'll  take  it,  I'll  pay  first,"  he  offered. 

"How  far?"  questioned  Mickey. 

"Oh,  right  over  here,"  said  the  boy  indefinitely. 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "Cross  my  palm  with  the 
silver." 

The  nickel  changed  hands.  Mickey  put  the  cheese  and 
egg  in  his  pocket,  the  milk  in  the  basket,  then  started.  The 
place  where  they  delivered  the  wash  made  Mickey  feel 
almost  prosperous.  He  picked  up  his  milk  bottle  and 
stepped  from  the  door,  when  a  long,  low  wail  that  made 
him  shudder,  reached  his  ear. 

"What's  that?"  he  asked  the  woman. 

"A  stiff  was  carried  past  to-day.  Mebby  they  ain't 
took  the  kids  yet." 

Mickey  went  slowly  down  the  stairs,  his  face  sober. 
That  was  what  his  mother  had  feared  for  him.  That  was 
why  she  had  trained  him  to  care  for  himself,  to  save  the 
pennies,  so  that  when  She  was  taken  away,  he  still  would 
have  a  home.  Sounded  like  a  child!  He  was  halfway  up 
che  long  flight  of  stairs  before  he  realized  that  he  was  going. 
He  found  the  door  at  last,  then,  stood  listening.  He 
heard  long-drawn,  heartbreaking  moaning.  Presently  he 
knocked.  A  child's  shriek  was  the  answer.  Mickey 
straightway  opened  the  door.  The  voice  guided  him  to  a 
heap  of  misery  in  a  corner. 

"What's  the  matter  kid?"  inquired  Mickey  huskily. 

The  bundle  stirred,  while  a  cry  issued.  He  glanced 
around  the  room.  What  he  saw  reassured  him.  He  laid 


12  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

hold  of  the  tatters,  beginning  to  uncover  what  was  under 
them.  He  dropped  his  hands,  stepping  back,  when  a 
tangled  yellow  mop  and  a  weazened,  bloated  girl-child  face 
peered  at  him,  with  wildly  frightened  eyes. 

"If  you'd  put  the  wind  you're  wastin'  into  words,  weM 
get  something  done  quicker,"  advised  Mickey. 

The  tiny  creature  clutched  the  filthy  covers,  still  staring. 

"Did  you  come  to  ' gtt'  me?"  she  quavered. 

"No,"  said  Mickey.  "I  heard  you  from  below  so  I 
came  to  see  what  hurt  you.  Ain't  you  got  folks?" 

She  shook  her  head:  "They  took  granny  in  a  box  and 
they  said  they'd  come  right  back  and  'get '  me.  Oh,  please, 
please  don't  let  them!" 

"Why  they'd  be  good  to  you,"  said  Mickey  largely. 
"They'd  give  you" — he  glanced  at  all  the  things  the  room 
lacked,  then  enumerated — "a  clean  bed,  lots  to  eat,  a 
window  you  could  be  seeing  from,  a  doll,  maybe." 

"No I  No ! "  she  cried.  " Granny  always  said  some  day 
she'd  go  and  leave  me;  then  they'd  '  gft'  me.  She's  gone! 
The  big  man  said  they'd  come  right  back.  Oh  don't  let 
them!  Oh  hide  me  quick!" 

"Well — well !  If  you're  so  afraid,  why  don't  you 

cut  and  hide  yourself  then?"  he  asked. 

"My  back's  bad.     I  can't  walk,"  the  child  answered. 

"Oh  Lord!"  said  Mickey.     "When  did  you  get  hurt?" 

"It's  always  been  bad.  I  ain't  ever  walked,"  she 
said. 

"Well!"  breathed  Mickey,  aghast.  "And  knowing 
she'd  have  to  leave  you  some  day,  your  granny  went  and 
scared  you  stiff  about  the  Home  folks  taking  you,  when  it's. 


HAPPY  HOME  IN  SUNRISE  ALLEY        13 

the  only  place  for  you  to  be  going?  Talk  about  women 
having  the  sense  to  vote!" 

"I  won't  go!  I  won't!  I'll  scratch  them!  I'll  bite 
them!"  Then  in  swift  change:  "Oh  boy,  don't.  Please, 
please  don't  let  them  'get'  me." 

Mickey  took  both  the  small  bony  hands  reaching  for 
him.  He  was  so  frightened  with  their  hot,  tremulous 
clutch,  that  he  tried  to  pull  away,  dragging  the  tiny  figure 
half  to  light  and  bringing  from  it  moans  of  pain. 

"Oh  my  back!  Oh  you're  hurting  me!  Oh  don't 
leave  me!  Oh  boy,  oh  dear  boy,  please  don't  leave  me!" 

When  she  said  "Oh  dear  boy,"  Mickey  heard  the  voice 
of  his  mother  in  an  hourly  phrase.  He  crept  closer,  endur- 
ing the  touch  of  the  grimy  claws. 

"My  name's  Mickey,"  he  said.     "What's  yours?" 

"Peaches,"  she  answered.  "Peaches,  when  I'm  good. 
Crippled  brat,  when  I'm  bad." 

"Blieve  if  you  had  your  chance  you  could  look  the 
peaches,"  said  Mickey,  "but  what  were  you  bad  for?" 

"So's  she'd  hit  me,"  answered  Peaches. 

"But  if  me  just  pulling  a  little  hurt  you  so,  what  hap- 
pened when  she  hit  you  ? "  asked  Mickey. 

"Like  knives  stuck  into  me,"  said  Peaches. 

"Then  what  did  you  be  bad  for?"  marvelled  Mickey. 

"Didn't  you  ever  get  so  tired  of  one  thing  you'd  take 
something  that  hurt,  jus'  for  a  change?" 

"My  eye!"  said  Mickey.  "I  don't  know  one  fellow 
who'd  do  that,  Peaches." 

"Mickey,  hide  me.  Oh  hide  me!  Don't  let  them  'get' 
me!"  she  begged. 


I4  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Why  kid,  you're  crazy,"  said  Mickey.  "Now  lemme 
tell  you.  Where  they'll  take  you  looks  like  a  nice  place. 
Honest  it  does.  I've  seen  lots  of  them.  You  get  a  clean 
soft  bed  all  by  yourself,  three  big  hot  meals  a  day,  things 
to  read,  and  to  play  with.  Honest  Peaches,  you  do!  I 
wouldn't  tell  you  if  it  wasn't  so.  If  I'll  stay  with  you  'til 
they  come,  then  go  with  you  to  the  place  'til  you  see  how 
nice  it  is,  will  you  be  good  and  go?" 

She  burrowed  in  the  covers,  screeching  again. 

"You're  scared  past  all  reason,"  said  Mickey.  "You 
don't  know  anything.  But  maybe  the  Orphings'  Homes 
ain't  so  good  as  they  look.  If  they  are,  why  was  mother 
frightened  silly  about  them  getting  me  ?  Always  she  said 
she  just  had  to  live  until  I  got  so  big  they  wouldn't  'get* 
me.  And  I  kept  them  from  getting  me  by  doing  what  she 
told  me.  Wonder  if  I  could  keep  them  from  getting  you? 
There's  nothing  of  you.  If  I  could  move  you  there,  I  bet 
I  could  feed  you  more  than  your  granny  did,  while  I  know  I 
could  keep  you  cleaner.  You  could  have  my  bed,  a  win- 
dow to  look  from,  and  clean  covers."  Mickey  was  thinking 
aloud.  "Having  you  to  come  home  to  would  be  lots  nicer 
than  nothing.  You'd  beat  a  dog  all  hollow,  'cause  you  can 
talk.  If  I  could  get  you  there,  I  believe  I  could  be  making 
it.  Yes,  I  believe  I  could  do  a  lot  better  than  this,  and  I 
believe  I'd  like  you,  Peaches,  you  are  such  a  game  little 
kid." 

"She  could  lift  me  with  one  hand,"  she  panted.  "Oh 
Mickey,  take  me!  Hurry!" 

"  Lemme  see  if  I  can  manage  you,"  said  Mickey.  "  Have 
you  got  to  be  took  any  particular  way?" 


HAPPY  HOME  IN  SUNRISE  ALLEY         15 

"Mickey,  ain't  you  got  folks  that  beat  you?"  she  asked. 

"I  ain't  got  folks  now,"  said  Mickey,  "and  they  didn't 
beat  me  when  I  had  them.  I'm  all  for  myself — and  if  you 
say  so,  I  guess  from  now  on,  I'm  for  you.  Want  to  go?" 

Her  arms  wound  tightly  around  his  neck.  Her  hot 
little  face  pressed  against  it. 

"Put  one  arm  'cross  my  shoulders,  an'  the  other  round 
my  legs,"  she  said. 

"But  I  got  to  go  down  a  lot  of  stairs;  it's  miles  and 
miles,"  said  Mickey,  "and  I  ain't  got  but  five  cents.  I 
spent  it  all  for  grub.  Peaches,  are  you  hungry?" 

"No!"  she  said  stoutly.     "Mickey,  hurry!" 

"But  honest,  I  can't  carry  you  all  that  way.  I  would 
if  I  could,  Peaches,  honest  I  would." 

"Oh  Mickey,  dear  Mickey,  hurry!"  she  begged. 

"Get  down  and  cover  up  'til  I  think,"  he  ordered.  "Say 
you  look  here!  If  I  tackle  this  job  do  you  want  a  change 
bad  enough  to  be  mean  for  me?" 

"Just  a  little  bit,  maybe,"  said  Peaches. 

"But  I  won't  hit  you,"  explained  Mickey. 

"You  can  if  you  want  to,"  she  said.  "I  won't  cry. 
Give  me  a  good  crack  now,  an'  see  if  I  do." 

"You  make  me  sick  at  my  stummick,"  said  Mickey. 
"Lord,  kid!  Snuggle  down  'til  I  see.  I'm  going  to  get 
you  there  some  way." 

Mickey  went  back  to  the  room  where  he  helped  deliver 
the  clothes  basket.  "How  much  can  you  earn  the  rest  of 
the  night  ? "  he  asked  the  woman. 

"Mebby  ten  cents,"  she  said. 

"Well,  if  you  will  loan  me  that  basket  and  ten  cents,  and 


16  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

come  with  me  an  hour,  there's  that  back  and  just  a  dollar 
in  it  for  you,  lady,"  he  offered. 

She  turned  from  him  with  a  sneering  laugh. 

"Honest,  lady!"  said  Mickey.  "This  is  how  it  is:  that 
crying  got  me  so  I  went  Anthony  Comstockin'.  There's  a 
kid  with  a  lame  back  all  alone  up  there,  half  starved  and 
scared  fighting  wild.  We  could  put  her  in  that  basket, 
she's  just  a  handful,  and  take  her  to  a  place  she  wants  to 
go.  We  could  ride  most  of  the  way  on  the  cars  and  then  a 
Ettle  walk,  and  get  her  to  a  cleaner,  better  room,  where 
she'd  be  taken  care  of,  and  m  an  hour  you'd  be  back  with 
enough  nickels  in  your  pocket  to  make  a  great,  big,  round, 
shining,  full-moon  cartwheel.  Dearest  lady,  doesn't  the 
prospect  please  you?" 

"It  would/'  she  said,  "if  I  had  the  cartwheel  now." 

"  In  which  case  you  wouldn't  go,"  said  Mickey.  "  Dear- 
est  lady,  it  isn't  business  to  pay  for  undone  work." 

"And  it  isn't  business  to  pay  your  employer's  fare  to  get 
to  your  job  either,"  she  retorted. 

"No,  that  beats  business  a  mile,"  said  Mickey.  "That's 
an  investment.  You  invest  ten  cents  and  an  hour's  time 
on  a  gamble.  Now  look  what  you  get,  lady.  A  nice  rest- 
ful ride  on  the  cars.  Your  ten  cents  back,  a  whole,  big, 
shining,  round,  lady-liberty  bird,  if  you  trust  in  God,  as  the 
coin  says  the  bird  does,  and  more'n  that,  dearest  lady,  you 
go  to  bed  feeling  your  pinfeathers  sprouting,  'cause  you've 
done  a  kind  deed  to  a  poor  crippled  orphing.  *' 

"If  I  thought  you  really  had  the  money "  she  said. 

"Honest,  lady,  I  got  the  money,"  said  Mickey,  "and 
'sides,  I  got  a  surprise  party  for  you.  When  you  get  back 


HAPPY  HOME  IN  SUNRISE  ALLEY         17 

you  may  go  to  that  room  and  take  every  scrap  that's  in  it. 
Now  come  on;  you're  going  to  be  enough  of  a  sporting  lady 
ro  try  a  chance  like  that,  ain't  you  ?  May  be  a  gold  mine 
up  there,  for  all  I  know.  Put  something  soft  in  the  bot- 
tom of  the  basket  while  I  fetch  the  kid." 

Midkey  ran  up  the  stairs. 

"Now  Peaches,"  he  said,  "I  guess  I  got  it  fixed.  I'm 
going  to  carry  you  down;  a  nice  lady  is  going  to  put  you  in 
a  big  basket,  then  we'll  take  you  to  the  cars  and  so  get  you 
to  my  house;  but  you  got  to  promise,  'cross  your  heart,  you 
won't  squeal,  nor  say  a  word,  'cause  the  police  will  'get* 
you  sure,  if  you  do.  They'll  think  the  woman  is  your  ma, 
so  it  will  be  all  right.  See  ? " 

Peaches  nodded.  Mickey  wrapped  her  in  the  remnants 
of  a  blanket,  carried  her  downstairs  and  laid  her  in  the 
basket.  By  turning  on  her  side  and  drawing  up  her  feet, 
she  had  more  room  than  she  needed. 

"They  won't  let  us  on  the  cars,"  said  the  woman. 

"Dearest  lady,  wait  and  see,"  said  Mickey.  "Now 
Peaches,  shut  your  eyes,  also  your  mouth.  Don't  you 
take  a  chance  at  saying  a  word.  If  they  won't  stand  the 
basket,  we'll  carry  you,  but  it  would  hurt  you  less,  while  it 
\vould  come  in  handy  when  we  run  out  of  cars.  You 
needn't  take  coin  only  for  going,  dearest  lady;  you'll  be 
silver  plated  coming  back." 

"You  little  fool,"  said  the  woman,  but  she  stooped  to 
her  end  of  the  basket. 

"Ready,  Peaches,"  said  Mickey,  "and  if  it  hurts,  'mem- 
ber it  will  soon  be  over,  and  you'll  be  where  nobody  will 
ever  hurt  you  again." 


1 8  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Hurry!"  begged  the  child. 

Down  the  long  stairs  they  went  and  to  the  car  line. 
Crowded  car  after  car  whirled  past;  finally  one  came  not  so 
full,  it  stopped  to  let  off  passengers.  Mickey  was  at  the 
conductor's  elbow. 

"Please  mister,  a  lame  kid,"  he  pleaded.  "We  want  to 
move  her.  Please,  please  help  us  on." 

"Can't!"  said  the  conductor.     "Take  a  taxi." 

"Broke  my  limousine,"  said  Mickey.  "Aw  come  on 
mister;  ain't  you  got  kids  of  your  own?" 

"Get  out  of  the  way!"  shouted  the  conductor. 

"Hang  on  de  back  wid  the  basket,"  cried  the  woman. 

With  Peaches  laid  over  her  shoulder,  she  swung  to  the 
platform,  and  found  a  seat,  while  Mickey  grabbed  the  bas- 
ket and  ran  to  the  back  screaming  after  her:  "I  got  my 
fare;  only  pay  for  yourself."  Mickey  told  the  conductor 
to  tell  the  lady  where  to  leave  the  car.  When  she  stepped 
down  he  was  ready  with  the  basket.  Peaches,  panting  and 
in  cold  perspiration  with  pain,  was  laid  in  it. 

"Lovely  part  of  the  village,  ain't  it,  lady?"  said  Mickey. 
"See  the  castles  of  the  millyingaires  piercing  the  sky;  see 
their  automobiles  at  the  curb;  see  the  lovely  ladies  and 
gents  promenading  the  streets  enjoying  the  spring?" 

Every  minute  Mickey  talked  to  keep  the  woman  from 
noticing  how  far  she  was  going;  but  soon  she  growled: 
"How  many  miles  furder  is  it?" 

"Just  around  a  corner,  up  an  alley,  and  down  a  side 
street  a  step.  Nothing  at  all!  Nice  promenade  for  a 
spry,  lovely  young  lady  like  you.  Evening  walk,  smell 
spring  in  the  air.  'Most  there  now,  Peaches." 


HAPPY  HOME  IN  SUNRISE  ALLEY         19 

"Where  are  ye  takin'  this  kid?  Howll  I  ever  get  back 
to  the  car  line  ? "  asked  the  woman. 

Mickey  ignored  the  first  question.  "Why,  I'll  be 
eschorting  you  of  course,  dearest  lady,"  he  said. 

At  the  point  of  rebellion,  Mickey  spoke.  "Now  set  the 
basket  down  right  here,"  he  ordered.  "I'll  be  back  in  no 
time  with  the  lady-bird." 

He  returned  in  a  few  minutes.  Into  her  outstretched 
palm  he  counted  twenty-two  nickels,  picked  the  child  from 
the  basket,  darted  around  a  corner  calling,  "Back  in  a 
minute,"  and  was  gone. 

"Now  Peaches,  we  got  some  steps  to  climb,"  he  said. 
"Grip  my  neck  tight  and  stand  just  a  little  more." 

"I  ain't  hurt!"  she  asserted.  "I  like  seein'  things.  I 
never  saw  so  much  before.  I  ain't  hurt — much!" 

"Your  face,  your  breathing,  and  the  sweating  on  your 
lips,  is  a  little  disproving,"  said  Mickey,  "but  I'll  have  to 
take  your  word  for  it,  'cause  I  can't  help  it;  but  it'll  soon  be 
over  so  you  may  rest." 

Mickey  climbed  a  flight,  then  sat  down  until  he  could 
manage  another.  The  last  flight  he  rested  three  times. 
One  reason  he  laid  Peaches  on  the  floor  was  because  he 
couldn't  reach  the  bed.  After  a  second's  pause  he  made  a 
light,  and  opened  the  milk  bottle. 

"Connect  with  that,"  he  said.  "I  got  to  take  the  lady 
back  to  the  cars." 

"Oh!"  cried  the  connected  child.  "Oh  Mickey,  how 
good!" 

"Go  slow!"  said  Mickey.  "You  better  save  half  to 
have  with  some  bread  for  your  supper.  Now  I  got  to 


20  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

leave  you  a  little  bit,  but  you  needn't  be  afraid,  'cause  I'll 
lock  you  in.  Nobody  will  ' get'  you  here." 

"Now  for  the  cars,"  said  Mickey  to  his  helper. 

"What  did  them  folks  say?"  she  asked. 

"Tickled  all  over,"  answered  Mickey  promptly. 

"That  bundle  of  dirty  rags!"  she  scoffed. 

"They  are  going  to  throw  away  the  rags  and  wash  her," 
said  Mickey.  "She's  getting  her  supper  now." 

"Sounds  like  lying,"  said  the  woman,  "but  mebby  it 
ain't.  Save  me,  I  can't  see  why  anybody  would  want  a 
kid  at  any  time,  let  alone  a  reekin'  bunch  of  skin  and 
crooked  bones." 

"You've  known  folks  to  want  a  dog,  ain't  you?"  said 
Mickey.  "Sure  something  that  can  think  and  talk  back 
must  be  a  lot  more  amusing.  I  see  the  parks  are  full  of  the 
rich  folks  dolling  up  the  dogs,  feeding  them  candy  and 
sending  them  out  for  an  airing  in  their  automobiles;  so  it's 
up  to  the  poor  people  to  look  after  the  homeless  children, 
isn't  it?" 

"Do  you  know  the  folks  that  took  her?" 

"Sure  I  do!  "said  Mickey. 

"Do  you  live  close?"  she  persisted. 

"Yes!  I'm  much  obliged  for  your  help,  dearest  lady. 
When  you  get  home,  go  up  to  the  last  attic  back,  and  if 
there  is  anything  there  you  want,  help  yourself.  Peaches 
don't  need  it  now,  while  there's  no  one  else.  Thank  you, 
and  good-bye.  Don't  fly  before  your  wings  grow,  'cause 
I  know  you'll  feel  like  trying  to-night." 

Mickey  hurried  back  to  his  room.  The  milk  bottle  lay 
on  the  floor,  the  child  asleep  beside  it.  The  boy  gazed  at 


HAPPY  HOME  IN  SUNRISE  ALLEY        21 

her.  There  were  strange  and  peculiar  stirrings  in  his 
lonely  little  heart.  She  was  so  grimy  he  scarcely  could 
tell  what  she  looked  like,  but  the  grip  of  her  tiny  hot  hands 
was  on  him.  Presently  he  laughed. 

"Well  fellers!  Look  what  I've  annexed!  And  I  was 
hunting  a  dog!  Well,  she's  lots  better.  She  won't  eat 
much  more,  she  can  talk,  and  she'll  be  something  alive 
waiting  when  I  come  home.  Gee,  I'm  glad  I  found 
her." 

Mickey  set  the  washtub  on  the  floor  near  the  sleeping 
child,  and  filling  the  dishpan  with  water,  put  it  over  the 
gasoline  burner.  Then  he  produced  soap,  a  towel,  and 
comb.  He  looked  at  the  child  again,  and  going  to  the 
box  that  contained  his  mother's  clothing  he  hunted  out  a 
nightdress.  Then  he  sat  down  to  wait  for  the  water  to 
heat.  The  door  slammed  when  he  went  after  a  bucket  of 
cold  water,  and  awakened  the  girl.  She  looked  at  him, 
then  at  his  preparations. 

"I  ain't  going  to  be  washed,"  she  said.  "It'll  hurt  me. 
Put  me  on  the  bed." 

"Put  you  on  my  bed,  dirty  like  you  are?"  cried  Mickey. 
"I  guess  not!  You  are  going  to  be  a  soaped  lady.  If  it 
hurts,  you  can  be  consoling  yourself  thinking  it  will  be 
the  last  time,  'cause  after  this  you'll  be  washed  every  day 
so  you  won't  need  skinning  alive  but  once." 

"I  won't!     I  won't !"  she  cried. 

"Now  looky  here!"  said  Mickey.  "I'm  the  boss  of 
this  place.  If  I  say  wash,  it's  wash!  See!  I  ain't  going 
to  have  a  dirty  girl  with  mats  in  her  hair  living  with  me. 
You  begged  me  and  begged  me  to  bring  you,  now  you'll  be 


22  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

cleaned  up  or  you'll  go  back.  Which  is  it,  back  or 
soap  ? " 

The  child  stared  at  him,  then  around  the  room. 

"Soap,"  she  conceded. 

"That's  a  lady,"  said  Mickey.  "Course  it's  soap!  All 
clean  and  sweet  smelling  like  a  flower.  See  my  mammy's 
nice  white  nightie  for  you?  How  bad  is  your  back, 
Peaches?  Can  you  sit  up?" 

"A  little  while,"  she  answered.     "My  legs  won't  go." 

"Never  you  mind,"  said  Mickey.  "I'll  work  hard  and 
get  a  doctor,  so  some  day  they  will." 

"They  won't  ever,"  insisted  Peaches.  "Granny  carried 
me  to  the  big  doctors  once,  an'  my  backbone  is  weak,  an' 
I  won't  ever  walk,  they  all  said  so." 

"Poot!  Doctors  don't  know  everything,"  scorned 
Mickey.  "That  was  long  ago,  maybe.  By  the  time  I  can 
earn  enough  to  get  you  a  dress  and  shoes,  a  doctor  will 
come  along  who's  found  out  how  to  make  backs  over. 
There's  one  that  put  different  legs  on  a  dog.  I  read  about 
it  in  the  papers  I  sold.  We'll  save  our  money  and  get  him 
to  put  another  back  on  you.  Just  a  bully  back." 

"Oh  Mickey,  will  you?"  she  cried. 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "Now  you  sit  up  and  I'll  wash 
you  like  mammy  always  did  me." 

Peaches  obeyed.  Mickey  soaped  a  cloth,  knelt  beside 
her;  then  he  paused.  "Say  Peaches,  when  was  your  hair 
combed  last?" 

"I  don't  know,  Mickey,"  she  answered. 

"There's  more  dirt  in  it  than  there  is  on  your  face." 

"If  you  got  shears,  just  cut  it  off,"  she  suggested. 


HAPPY  HOME  IN  SUNRISE  ALLEY         23 

f"Sure!"  said  Mickey. 

He  produced  shears  and  lifting  string  after  string  cut 
all  of  them  the  same  distance  from  her  head. 

"Girls'  shouldn't  be  short,  like  boys',"  he  explained. 
"Now  hang  your  head  over  the  edge  of  the  tub  and  shut 
your  eyes  so  I  can  wash  it,"  he  ordered. 

Mickey  soaped  and  scoured  until  the  last  tangle  was 
gone,  then  rinsed  and  partly  dried  the  hair,  which  felt 
soft  and  fine  to  his  fingers. 

"  B'lieve  it's  going  to  curl,"  he  said. 

"Always  did,"  she  answered. 

Mickey  emptied  and  rinsed  the  tub  at  the  drain,  then 
started  again  on  her  face  and  ears,  which  he  washed 
thoroughly.  He  pinned  a  sheet  around  her  neck,  then  she 
divested  herself  of  the  rags.  Mickey  lifted  her  into  the 
tub,  draped  the  sheet  over  the  edge,  poured  in  the  water, 
and  handed  her  the  soap. 

"Now  you  scour,  while  I  get  supper,"  he  said. 

Peaches  did  her  best.  Mickey  locked  her  in  and  went 
after  more  milk.  He  wanted  to  add  several  extras,  but 
remembering  the  awful  hole  the  dollar  had  made  in  his 
finances,  he  said  grimly:  "No-sir-ee!  With  a  family  to 
keep,  and  likely  to  need  a  doctor  at  any  time  and  a  Carrel 
back  to  buy,  there's  no  frills  for  Mickey.  Seeing  what 
she  ain't  had,  she  ought  to  be  thankful  for  just  milk." 

So  he  went  back,  lifted  Peaches  from  the  tub  and  laid 
her  on  the  floor,  where  he  dried  her  with  the  sheet.  Then 
he  put  the  nightdress  over  her  head,  she  slipped  her  arms 
in  the  sleeves,  and  he  stretched  her  on  his  bed.  She 
was  so  lost  in  the  garment  he  tied  a  string  under  her  arms 


24  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

to  hold  it,  and  cut  off  the  sleeves  at  her  elbows.  The 
pieces  he  saved  for  washcloths.  Mickey  spread  his  sheet 
over  her,  rolled  the  bed  before  the  window  where  she  could 
have  air,  see  sky  and  housetops,  then  brought  her  supper. 
It  was  a  cup  of  milk  with  half  the  bread  broken  in,  and 
a  banana.  Peaches  was  too  tired  to  eat,  so  she  drank 
the  milk  while  Mickey  finished  the  remainder.  Then  he 
threw  her  rags  from  the  window,  and  spread  his  winter 
covers  on  the  floor  for  his  bed.  Soon  both  of  them  were 
asleep. 


CHAPTER  II 
MOCCASINS  AND  LADY  SLIPPERS 

O  MESSENGER  boy  for  those,"  said  Douglas 
Bruce  as  he  handed  the  florist  the  price  set  on 
the  lady  slippers.  "Leave  them  where  people 
may  enjoy  them  until  I  call." 

As  he  turned,  another  man  was  inquiring  about  the 
orchids;  he  too  preferred  the  slippers;  but  when  he  was 
told  they  were  taken,  he  had  wanted  the  moccasins  all  the 
time,  anyway.  The  basket  was  far  more  attractive.  He 
refused  delivery,  returning  to  his  waiting  car  smiling 
over  the  flowers.  He  also  saw  a  vision  of  the  woman 
into  whose  sated  life  he  hoped  to  bring  a  breath  of  change 
with  the  wonderful  gift.  He  saw  the  basket  in  her  hands, 
and  thrilled  in  anticipation  of  the  favours  her  warmed 
heart  might  prompt  her  to  bestow  upon  him. 

In  the  mists  of  early  morning  the  pink  orchids  surrounded 
by  rosemary  and  ladies'  tresses  had  glowed  and  gleamed 
from  the  top  of  a  silvery  moss  mound  four  feet  deep,  under 
a  big  tamarack  in  a  swamp,  through  the  bog  of  which 
the  squaw  plunged  to  her  knees  at  each  step  to  uproot 
them.  In  the  evening  glow  of  electricity,  snapped  from 
their  stems,  the  beautiful  basket  untouched,  the  moc- 
casins lay  on  the  breast  of  a  woman  of  fashion,  while  with 
every  second  of  contact  with  the  warmth  of  her  body, 

25 


26  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

they  drooped  lower,  until  clasped  in  the  arms  of  her  lover, 
they  were  quite  crushed,  then  flung  from  an  automobile 
to  be  ground  to  pulp  by  passing  wheels. 

The  slippers  had  a  happier  fate.  Douglas  Bruce  carried 
them  reverently.  He  was  sure  he  knew  the  swamp  in 
which  they  grew.  As  he  went  his  way,  he  held  the  basket, 
velvet-white,  in  strong  hands,  swaying  his  body  with 
the  motion  of  the  car  lest  one  leaf  be  damaged.  When 
he  entered  the  hall,  down  the  stairs  came  Leslie  Winton. 

"Why  Douglas,  I  wasn't  expecting  you,"  she  said. 

Douglas  Bruce  held  up  the  basket. 

"Joy!"  she  cried.  "Oh  joy  unspeakable!  Who  has 
been  to  the  tamarack  swamp?" 

"A  squaw  was  leaving  Lowry's  as  he  put  these  in  his 
window,"  answered  Douglas. 

"Bring  them,"  she  said. 

He  followed  to  a  wide  side  veranda,  set  the  basket 
on  a  table  in  a  cool  spot,  then  drew  a  chair  near  it.  Leslie 
Winton  seated  herself,  leaning  on  the  table  to  study 
the  orchids.  Unconsciously  she  made  the  picture  Doug- 
las had  seen.  She  reached  up  slim  fingers  in  delicate 
touchings  here  and  there  of  moss,  corolla  and  slipper. 

"Never  in  all  my  days —  "  she  said.  "Never  in  all 

my  days I  shall  keep  the  basket  always,  and  the 

slippers  as  long  as  I  possibly  can.  See  this  one!  It  isn't 
fully  open.  I  should  have  them  for  a  week  at  least. 
Please  hand  me  a  glass  of  water." 

Douglas  started  to  say  that  ice  water  would  be  too 
cold,  but  with  the  wisdom  of  a  wise  man  waited;  and 
as  always,  was  joyed  by  the  waiting.  For  the  girl  took 


MOCCASINS  AND  LADY  SLIPPERS         27 

the  glass  and  cupping  her  hands  around  it  sat  talking  to 
the  flowers,  and  to  him,  as  she  warmed  the  water  with 
heat  from  her  body.  Douglas  was  so  delighted  with  the 
unforeseen  second  that  had  given  him  first  chance  at  the 
orchids,  and  so  this  unexpected  call,  that  he  did  not  mind 
the  attention  she  gave  the  flowers.  He  had  reasons  for 
not  being  extravagant;  but  seldom  had  a  like  sum  brought 
such  returns.  He  began  drawing  interest  as  he  watched 
Leslie.  Never  had  her  form  seemed  so  perfect,  her  dresp 
so  becoming  and  simple.  How  could  other  women  make 
a  vulgar  display  in  the  same  pattern  that  clothed  her 
modestly?  How  wonderful  were  the  soft  coils  of  her  hair, 
the  tints  paling  and  flushing  on  her  cheeks,  her  shining 
eyes!  Why  corld  not  all  women  use  her  low,  even,  per- 
fectly accented  speech  and  deliberate  self-control? 

He  was  in  daily  intercourse  with  her  father,  a  high 
official  of  the  city,  a  man  of  education,  social  position,  and 
wealth.  Mr.  Winton  had  reared  his  only  child  according 
to  his  ideas;  but  Douglas,  knowing  these  things,  believed 
in  blood  also.  As  Leslie  turned  and  warmed  the  water, 
watching  her,  the  thought  was  strong  in  his  mind:  what  a 
woman  her  mother  must  have  been!  Each  day  he  was 
with  Leslie,  he  saw  her  do  things  that  no  amount  of  cul- 
ture could  instil.  Instinct  and  tact  are  inborn;  careful 
rearing  may  produce  a  good  imitation,  they  are  genuine 
only  with  blood.  Leslie  had  always  filled  his  ideal  of 
a  true  woman.  To  ignore  him  for  his  gift  would  have 
piqued  many  a  man;  Douglas  Bruce  was  pleased. 

"You  wonders!"  she  said  softly.  "Oh  you  wonders! 
When  the  mists  lifted  in  the  marshes  this  morning,  and 


28  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

the  first  ray  of  gold  touched  you  to  equal  goldness,  you 
didn't  know  you  were  coming  to  me.  I  almost  wish  I 
could  put  you  back.  Just  now  you  should  be  in  such 
cool  mistiness,  while  you  should  be  hearing  a  hermit 
thrush  sing  vespers,  a  cedar  bird  call,  and  a  whip-poor-will 
cry.  But  I'm  glad  I  have  you!  Oh  I'm  so  glad  you  came 
to  me!  I  never  materialized  a  whole  swamp  with  such 
vividness  as  only  this  little  part  of  it  brings.  Douglas, 
when  you  caught  the  first  glimpse  of  these,  how  far  into  the 
swamp  did  you  see  past  them?" 

"To  the  heart — of  the  swamp — and  of  my  heart." 

"I  can  see  it  as  perfectly  as  I  ever  did,"  she  said.  "But 
I  eliminate  the  squaw;  possibly  because  I  didn't  see  her. 
And  however  exquisite  the  basket  is,  she  broke  the  law 
when  she  peeled  a  birch  tree.  I'll  wager  she  brought  this 
to  Lowry,  carefully  covered.  And  I'm  not  sure  but  there 
should  have  been  a  law  she  broke  when  she  uprooted  these 
orchids.  Much  as  I  love  them,  I  doubt  if  I  can  keep 
them  alive,  and  bring  them  to  bloom  next  season.  I'll  try, 
but  I  don't  possess  flower  magic  in  the  highest  degree." 

She  turned  the  glass,  touching  it  with  questioning 
palm.  Was  it  near  the  warmth  of  bog  water?  After 
all,  was  bog  water  warm?  Next  time  she  was  in  a  swamp 
she  would  plunge  her  hand  deeply  in  the  mosses  to  feel 
the  exact  temperature  to  which  those  roots  had  been 
accustomed.  Then  she  spoke  again. 

"Yes,  I  eliminate  the  squaw,"  she  said.  "These  golden 
slippers  are  the  swamp  to  me,  but  I  see  you  kneeling 
to  lift  them.  I  am  so  glad  I'm  the  woman  they  made  you 
see." 


MOCCASINS  AND  LADY  SLIPPERS         29 

Douglas  sat  forward  and  opened  his  lips.  Was  not  this 
the  auspicious  moment? 

"Did  the  squaw  bring  more?"  she  questioned. 

"Yes,"  he  answered.  "Pink  moccasins  in  a  basket  of 
red  osiers,  with  the  same  moss,  rosemary  and  white 
tresses.  Would  you  rather  those?" 

She  set  down  the  glass,  drawing  the  basket  toward  her 
with  both  hands.  As  she  parted  the  mosses  to  drop  in  the 
water  she  slowly  shook  her  head. 

"One  must  have  seen  them  to  understand  what  that 
would  be  like,"  she  said.  "I  know  it  was  beautiful,  but 
I'm  sure  I  should  have  selected  the  gold  had  I  been  there. 
Oh  I  wonder  if  the  woman  who  has  the  moccasins  will  give 
them  a  drink  to-night!  And  will  she  try  to  preserve  their 
roots?" 

"She  will  not!"  said  Douglas  emphatically. 

"How  can  you  possibly  know?"  queried  the  girl. 

"I  saw  the  man  who  ordered  them,"  laughed  Douglas. 

"Oh!"  cried  Leslie,  comprehendingly. 

"I'd  stake  all  I'm  worth  the  moccasins  are  drooping 
against  a  lavender  dress;  the  roots  are  in  the  garbage  can, 
while  the  cook  or  maid  has  the  basket,"  he  said. 

"Douglas,  how  can  you!"  exclaimed  Leslie. 

"I  couldn't!     Positively  couldn't!     Mine  are  here!" 

The  slow  colour  crept  into  her  cheek.  "I'll  make  those 
roots  bloom  next  spring;  you  shall  see  them  in  perfection,'* 
she  promised. 

"That  would  be  wonderful!"  he  exclaimed  warmly. 

"Tell  me,  were  there  yet  others?"  she  asked  hastily. 

"Only   these,"   he   said.     "But  there  was   something 


30  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

else.  I  came  near  losing  them.  While  I  debated,  or 
rather  while  I  possessed  these,  and  worshipped  the  others, 
there  was  a  gutter  row  that  almost  made  me  lose  yours." 

"In  the  gutter  again?"  she  laughed. 

"Once  again,"  he  admitted.  "Such  a  little  chap,  with 
an  appealing  voice,  while  his  inflection  was  the  smallest 
part  of  what  he  was  saying.  'Aw  kid,  come  on.  Be 
square!'  Oh  Leslie!" 

"Why  Douglas!"  the  girl  cried.     "Tell  me!" 

"Of  all  the  wooden-head  slowness!"  he  exclaimed. 
"I've  let  him  slip  again!" 

"Let  who  'slip  again?"'  questioned  Leslie. 

"My  little  brother!"  answered  he 

"Oh  Douglas!     You  didn't  really?"  she  protested. 

"Yes  I  did,"  he  said.  "I  heard  a  little  lad  saying  the 
things  that  are  in  the  blood  and  bone  of  the  men  money 
can't  buy  and  corruption  can't  break.  I  heard  him  plead 
like  a  lawyer  and  argue  his  case  straight.  I  lent  a  hand 
when  his  eloquence  failed,  got  him  his  deserts,  then  let 
him  go!  I  did  have  an  impulse  to  keep  him.  I  did  call 
after  him.  But  he  disappeared." 

"Douglas,  we  can  find  him!"  she  comforted. 

"I  haven't  found  either  of  the  others  I  realized  I'd 
have  been  interested  in,  after  I  let  them  slip,"  he  an- 
swered, "while  this  boy  was  both  of  them  rolled  into  one, 
and  ten  more  like  them." 

"Oh  Douglas!  I'm  so  sorry!  But  maybe  some  other 
man  has  already  found  him,"  said  Leslie. 

"No.  You  can  always  pick  the  brothered  boys,"  said 
Douglas.  "The  first  thing  that  happens  to  them  is  a 


MOCCASINS  AND  LADY  SLIPPERS         31 

clean-up  and  better  clothing;  then  an  air  of  possessed  im- 
portance. No  man  has  attached  this  one." 

"Douglas,  describe  him,"  she  commanded.  "I'll  watch 
for  him.  How  did  he  look?  What  was  the  trouble?" 

"One  at  a  time,"  cautioned  the  man.  "He  was  a  little 
chap,  a  white,  clean,  threadbare  little  chap,  with  such 
a  big  voice,  so  wonderfully  intoned,  and  such  a  bigger 
principle,  for  which  he  was  fighting.  One  of  these  over- 
grown newsboys  the  public  won't  stand  for  unless  he  is 
in  the  way  when  they  are  making  a  car,  had  hired  him  to 
sell  his  papers  while  he  loafed.  Mickey " 

'"Mickey?"'  repeated  Leslie  questioningly. 

"The  big  fellow  called  him  'Mickey;'  no  doubt  a  mother 
who  adored  him  named  him  Michael,  and  thought  him 
'like  unto  God'  when  she  did  it.  The  big  fellow  had 
loafed  all  afternoon.  When  Mickey  came  back  and  turned 
over  the  money,  and  waited  to  be  paid  off,  his  employer 
laughed  at  the  boy  for  not  keeping  it  when  he  had  it. 
Mickey  begged  him  'to  be  square'  and  told  him  that  'was 
not  business' — 'not  business,'  mind  you,  but  the  big  fellow 
jeered  at  him  and  was  starting  away.  Mickey  and  I 
reached  him  at  the  same  time;  so  I  got  in  the  gutter  again. 
I  dc"'t  see  how  I  can  be  so  slow!  I  don't  see  how  I 
did  it!" 

"I  don't  either,"  she  said,  with  a  twinkle  that  might 
have  referred  to  the  first  of  the  two  exclamations.  "It 
must  be  your  Scotch  habit  of  going  slowly  and  surely. 
But  cheer  up!  We'll  find  him.  I'll  help  you." 

"Have  you  reflected  on  the  fact  that  this  city  covers 
many  square  miles,  of  which  a  fourth  is  outskirts,  while 


32  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

from  them  three  thousand  newsboys  gathered  at  the  last 
Salvation  Army  banquet  for  them?" 

"That's  where  we  can  find  him!"  she  cried.  "Thanks- 
giving, or  Christmas!  Of  course  we'll  see  him  then." 

"Mickey  didn't  have  a  Salvation  Army  face,"  he  said. 
"I  am  sure  he  is  a  free  lance,  and  a  rare  one;  besides,  this  is 
May.  I  want  my  little  brother  to  go  on  my  vacation  with 
me.  I  want  him  now." 

"Would  it  help  any  if  I'd  be  a  sister  to  you?" 

"Not  a  bit,"  said  Douglas.  "I  don't  in  the  very  least 
wish  to  consider  you  in  the  light  of  a  sister;  you  have  an- 
other place  in  my  heart,  very  different,  yet  all  your  own; 
but  I  do  wish  to  make  of  Mickey  the  little  brother  I  never 
have  had.  Minturn  was  telling  me  what  a  rejuvenation 
he's  getting  from  the  boy  he  picked  up.  Already  he  has 
him  in  his  office,  and  is  planning  school  and  partnership 
with  a  man  he  can  train  as  he  chooses." 

"But  Minturn  has  sons  of  his  own!"  protested  Leslie. 

"Oh  no!  Not  in  the  least!"  exclaimed  Douglas.  "Min- 
turn has  sons  of  his  wife's.  She  persistently  upsets  and 
frustrates  Minturn's  every  idea  for  them,  while  he  is  help- 
less. You  will  remember  she  has  millions;  he  has  what 
he  earns.  He  can't  separate  his  boys,  splendid  pi:  sical 
little  chaps,  from  their  mother's  money  and  influence,  and 
educate  them  to  be  a  help  to  him.  They  are  to  be  made 
into  men  of  wealth  and  leisure.  Minturn  will  evolve  his 
little  brother  into  a  man  of  brains  and  efficiency." 

"But  Minturn  is  a  power!"  cried  the  girl. 

"Not  financially,"  explained  Douglas.  "Nothing  but 
money  counts  with  his  wife.  In  telling  me  of  this  boy, 


MOCCASINS  AND  LADY  SLIPPERS         33 

Minturn  confessed  that  he  was  forced,  forced  mind  you, 
to  see  his  sons  ruined,  while  he  is  building  a  street  gamin 
as  he  would  them,  if  permitted." 

"How  sad,  Douglas!"  cried  Leslie.  "Your  voice  is 
bitter.  Can't  he  do  something?" 

"Not  a  blooming  thing!"  answered  Douglas.  "She  has 
the  money.  She  is  their  mother.  Her  character  is  unim- 
peachable. If  Minturn  went  to  extremes,  the  law  would 
give  them  to  her;  she  would  turn  them  over  to  ignorant 
servants  who  would  corrupt  them,  and  be  well  paid  for 
doing  it.  Why  Minturn  told  me — but  I  can't  repeat  that. 
Anyway,  he  made  me  eager  to  try  my  ideas  on  a  lad  who 
would  be  company  for  me,  when  I  can't  be  here  and  don't 
wish  to  be  with  other  men." 

"Are  you  still  going  to  those  Brotherhood  meetings?" 

"I  am.  And  I  always  shall  be.  Nothing  in  life  gives 
me  such  big  returns  for  the  time  invested.  There  is  a 
world  of  talk  breaking  loose  about  the  present  'unrest' 
among  women;  I  happen  to  know  that  the  'unrest'  is  as 
deep  with  men.  For  each  woman  I  personally  know, 
bitten  by  'unrest,'  I  know  two  men  in  the  same  condition. 
As  long  as  men  and  women  are  forced  to  combine,  to 
uphold  society,  it  is  my  idea  that  it  would  be  a  good  thing 
if  there  were  to  be  a  Sisterhood  organized;  then  the  two 
societies  frankly  brought  together  and  allowed  to  clear 
up  the  differences  between  them." 

"But  why  not?"  asked  the  girl  eagerly. 

"Because  we  are  pursuing  false  ideals,  we  have  a  wrong 
conception  of  what  is  worth  while  in  life,"  answered  the 
Scotsman.  "Because  the  sexes  except  in  rare,  very 


34  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

rare,  instances,  do  not  understand  each  other,  and  every 
day  are  drifting  farther  apart,  while  most  of  the  married 
folk  I  know  are  farthest  apart  of  all.  Leslie,  what  is  it 
in  marriage  that  constrains  people?  We  can  talk,  argue 
and  agree  or  disagree  on  anything,  why  can't  the  Min- 
turns?" 

"From  what  you  say,  it  would  seem  to  me  it's  her  idea 
of  what  is  worth  while  in  life,"  said  Leslie. 

"Exactly!"  cried  Douglas.  "But  he  can  sway  men! 
He  can  do  powerful  work.  He  could  induce  her  to  marry 
him.  Why  can't  he  control  his  own  blood  ? " 

"If  she  should  lose  her  money  and  become  dependent 
upon  him  for  support,  he  could!"  said  Leslie. 

"He  should  do  it  anyway,"  insisted  Douglas. 

"Do  you  think  you  could?"  she  queried. 

"I  never  thought  myself  in  his  place,"  said  Douglas, 
"but  I  believe  I  will,  and  if  I  see  glimmerings,  I'll  suggest 
them  to  him." 

"Good  boy ! "  said  the  girl  lightly.  And  then  she  added : 
"Do  you  mind  if  I  think  myself  in  her  place  and  see  if  I 
can  suggest  a  possible  point  at  which  she  could  be  reached  ? 
I  know  her.  I  shouldn't  consider  her  happy.  At  least 
not  with  what  I  call  joy." 

"What  do  you  call  joy?"  asked  Douglas. 

"Being  satisfied  with  your  environment." 

Douglas  glanced  at  her,  then  at  her  surroundings,  and 
looking  into  her  eyes  laughed  quizzically. 

"But  if  it  were  different,  I  am  perfectly  confident  that  I 
should  work  out  joy  from  life,"  insisted  Leslie.  "It  owes 
me  joy!  I'll  have  it,  if  I  fight  for  it!" 


MOCCASINS  AND  LADY  SLIPPERS         35 

"Leslie!  Leslie!  Be  careful!  You  are  challenging 
Providence.  Stronger  men  than  I  have  wrought  chaos 
for  their  children,"  said  a  warning  voice,  as  her  father 
came  behind  her  chair. 

"Chaos  or  no,  still  I'd  put  up  my  fight  for  joy,  Daddy,'* 
laughed  the  girl.  "Only  see,  Preciousest!" 

"One  minute!"  said  her  father,  shaking  hands  with 
Douglas.  "Now  what  is  it,  Leslie?  Oh,  I  do  see!" 

"Take  my  chair  and  make  friends,"  said  the  girl. 

Mr.  Winton  seated  himself,  then  began  examining  and 
turning  the  basket.  "Indians?"  he  queried. 

"Yes,"  said  Douglas.  "A  particularly  greasy  squaw.  I 
wish  I  might  truthfully  report  an  artist's  Indian  of  the 
Minnehaha  type,  but  alack,  it  was  the  same  one  I've  seen 
ever  since  I've  been  in  the  city,  and  that  you've  seen  for 
years  before  my  arrival." 

Mr.  Winton  still  turned  the  basket. 

"I've  bought  their  stuff  for  years,  because  neither  Leslie 
nor  her  mother  ever  would  tolerate  fat  carnations  and 
overgrown  roses  so  long  as  I  could  find  a  scrap  of  arbutus, 
a  violet  or  a  wake-robin  from  the  woods.  We've  often 
motored  up  and  penetrated  the  swamp  I  fancy  these  came 
from,  for  some  distance,  but  later  in  the  season;  it's  so  very 
boggy  now.  Aren't  these  rather  wonderful  ? "  He  turned 
to  his  daughter. 

"Perfectly,  Daddy,"  she  said.     "Perfectly!" 

"But  I  don't  mean  for  the  Creator,"  explained 
Mr.  Winton.  "I  am  accustomed  to  His  miracles. 
Every  day  I  see  a  number  of  them.  I  mean  for  the 
squaw." 


36  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"I'd  have  to  know  the  squaw  and  understand  her  view- 
point," said  Leslie. 

"She  had  it  in  her  tightly  clenched  fist,"  laughed  Doug- 
las. "One,  I'm  sure;  anyway,  not  over  two." 

"That  hasn't  a  thing  to  do  with  the  art  with  which  she 
made  the  basket  and  filled  it  with  just  three  perfect 
plants,"  said  Leslie. 

"You  think  there  is  real  art  in  her  anatomy?"  queried 
Mr.  Winton. 

"Bear  witness,  O  you  treasures  of  gold!"  cried  Leslie, 
waving  toward  the  basket. 

"There  was  another,"  explained  Douglas  as  he  again 
described  the  osier  basket. 

Mr.  Winton  nodded.     He  looked  at  his  daughter. 

"I  like  to  think,  young  woman,  that  you  were  born  with 
and  I  have  cultivated  what  might  be  called  artistic  taste  in 
you,"  he  said.  "Granted  the  freedom  of  the  tamarack 
swamp,  could  you  have  done  better?" 

"Not  so  well,  Daddy!  Not  nearly  so  well.  I  never 
could  have  defaced  what  you  can  see  was  a  noble  big  tree 
by  cutting  that  piece  of  bark,  while  I  might  have  wor- 
shipped until  dragged  away,  but  so  far  as  art  and  I  are  con- 
cerned, the  slippers  would  still  be  under  their  tamarack." 

"You  are  begging  the  question,  Leslie,"  laughed  her 
father.  "I  was  not  discussing  the  preservation  of  the 
wild,  I  was  inquiring  into  the  state  of  your  artistic  ability. 
If  you  had  no  hesitation  about  taking  the  flowers,  could 
you  have  gone  to  that  swamp,  collected  the  material  and 
fashioned  and  filled  a  more  beautiful  basket  than  this?" 

"How  can  I  tell,  Daddy?"  asked  the  girl.     "There's 


MOCCASINS  AND  LADY  SLIPPERS         37 

only  one  way  to  learn.  I'll  forget  my  scruples,  you  get  me 
a  pair  of  rubber  boots,  th~n  we'll  drive  to  the  tamarack 
swamp  and  experiment." 

"We'll  do  it!"  cried  Mr.  Winton.  "The  very  first  half 
day  I  can  spare,  we'll  do  it.  And  you  Douglas,  you  will 
want  to  come  with  us,  of  course." 

"Why,  'of  course,'"  laughed  Leslie. 

"Because  he  started  the  expedition  with  his  golden 
slippers.  When  it  come  to  putting  my  girl,  and  incident- 
ally my  whole  family,  in  competition  with  an  Indian  squaw 
on  a  question  of  art,  naturally,  her  father  and  one  of  her 
best  friends  would  want  to  be  present." 

"But  maybe  'Minnie*  went  alone,  and  what  chance 
would  her  work  have  with  you  two  for  judges?"  asked 
Leslie. 

"We  needn't  be  the  judges,"  said  Douglas  Bruce  quietly. 
"We  can  put  this  basket  in  the  basement  in  a  cool,  damp 
place,  where  it  will  keep  perfectly  for  a  week.  When  you 
make  your  basket  we  can  find  the  squaw  and  bring  her 
down  with  us.  Lowry  could  display  the  results  side  by  side. 
He  could  call  up  whomever  you  consider  the  most  artistic 
man  and  woman  in  the  city  and  get  their  decision.  You'd 
be  willing  to  abide  by  that,  wouldn't  you?" 

"Surely,  but  it  wouldn't  be  fair  to  the  squaw,"  explained 
Leslie.  "I'd  have  had  the  benefit  of  her  art  to  begin  on.'* 

"It  would,"  said  Mr.  Winton.  "Does  not  every  artist 
living,  painter,  sculptor,  writer,  what  you  will,  have  the 
benefit  of  all  art  that  has  gone  before?" 

"You  agree?"     Leslie  turned  to  Douglas. 

**Your  father's  argument  is  a  truism." 


38  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"But  I  will  know  that  I  am  on  trial.  She  didn't.  Is  it 
fair  to  her?"  persisted  Leslie. 

"For  begging  the  question,  commend  me  to  a  woman," 
said  Mr.  Winton.  "The  point  we  began  at,  was  not  what 
you  could  do  in  a  contest  with  her.  She  went  to  the 
swamp  and  brought  from  it  some  flower  baskets.  It  is 
perfectly  fair  to  her  to  suppose  that  they  are  her  best  art. 
Now  what  we  are  proposing  to  test  is  whether  the  finest 
product  of  our  civilization,  as  embodied  in  you,  can  go  to 
the  same  swamp,  and  from  the  same  location  surpass  her 
work.  Do  I  make  myself  clear?" 

"Perfectly  clear,  Daddy,  and  it  would  be  fair,"  con- 
ceded Leslie.  "But  it  is  an  offence  punishable  with  a 
heavy  fine  to  peel  a  birch  tree;  while  I  wouldn't  do  it,  if 
it  were  not." 

"Got  her  to  respect  the  law  anyway,"  said  Mr.  Winton 
to  Douglas.  "The  proposition,  Leslie,  was  not  that  you 
do  the  same  thing,  but  that  from  the  same  source  you 
outdo  her.  You  needn't  use  birch  bark  if  it  involves  your 
law-abiding  soul." 

"Then  it's  all  settled.  You  must  hurry  and  take  me 
before  the  lovely  plants  have  flowered,"  said  Leslie. 

"I'll  go  day  after  to-morrow,"  promised  Mr.  Winton. 

"In  order  to  make  our  plan  work,  it  is  necessary  that  I 
keep  these  orchids  until  that  time,"  said  Leslie. 

"You  have  a  better  chance  than  the  lady  who  drew  the 
osier  basket  has  of  keeping  hers,"  said  Mr.  Winton.  "If 
I  remember  I  have  seen  the  slippers  in  common  earth  quite 
a  distance  from  the  lake,  while  the  moccasins  demand  bog 
moss,  water  and  swamp  mists  and  dampness." 


MOCCASINS  AND  LADY  SLIPPERS         39 

"I  have  seen  slippers  in  the  woods  myself,"  said  Leslie. 
"I  think  the  conservatory  will  do,  so  they  shall  go  there 
right  now.  I  have  to  be  fair  to  'Minnie.'" 

"Let  me  carry  them  for  you,"  offered  Douglas,  arising. 

"'Scuse  us.  Back  in  a  second,  Daddy,"  said  Leslie.  "I 
am  interested,  excited  and  eager  to  make  the  test,  yet  in  a 
sense  I  do  not  like  it." 

"But  why?"  asked  Douglas. 

"Can't  you  see?"  countered  Leslie. 

"No,"  said  Douglas. 

"It's  shifting  my  sense  of  possession,"  explained  the 
girl.  "The  slippers  are  no  longer  my  beautiful  gift  from 
you.  They  are  perishable  things  that  belong  to  an  Indian 
squaw.  In  justice  to  her,  I  have  to  keep  them  in  perfect 
condition  so  that  my  work  may  not  surpass  hers  with  the 
unspeakable  art  of  flower  freshness;  while  instead  of  think- 
ing them  the  loveliest  tH-.^;  in  the  world,  I  will  now  lie 
awake  half  the  night,  no  doubt,  studying  what  I  can  pos- 
sibly find  that  is  more  beautiful." 

Douglas  Bruce  opened  his  slow  lips,  taking  a  step  in  her 
direction. 

"Dinner  is  served,"  announced  her  father.  He  looked 
inquiringly  toward  his  daughter.  She  turned  to  Douglas. 

"Unless  you  have  a  previous  engagement,  you  will  dine 
with  us,  won't  you?"  she  asked. 

"I  should  be  delighted,"  he  said  heartily. 

When  the  meal  was  over  and  they  had  returned  to  the 
veranda,  Leslie  listened  quietly  while  the  men  talked,  most 
of  the  time,  but  when  she  did  speak,  what  she  said  proved 
that  she  alwavs  had  listened  to  and  taken  part  in  the  dis- 


40  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

cussions  of  men,  until  she  understood  and  could  speak  of 
business  or  politics  intelligently. 

"Have  you  ever  considered  an  official  position,  Doug- 
las?" inquired  Mr.  Winton.  "I  have  an  office  within  my 
gift,  or  so  nearly  so  that  I  can  control  it,  and  it  seems  to  me 
that  you  would  be  a  good  man.  Surely  we  could  work  to- 
gether in  harmony." 

"It  never  has  appealed  to  me  that  I  wanted  work  of  that 
nature,"  answered  Douglas.  "It's  unusually  kind  of  you 
to  think  of  me,  and  make  the  offer,  but  I  am  satisfied  with 
what  I  am  doing,  while  there  is  a  steady  increase  in  my 
business  that  gives  me  confidence." 

"What's  your  objection  to  office?"  asked  Mr.  Winton. 

"That  it  takes  your  time  from  your  work,"  answered 
Douglas.  "That  it  changes  the  nature  of  your  work. 
That  if  you  let  the  leaders  of  a  party  secure  you  a  nomina- 
tion, and  the  party  elect  yo.-,  you  are  bound  to  their 
principles,  at  least  there  is  a  tacit  understanding  that  you 
are,  and  if  you  should  happen  to  be  afflicted  with  principles 
of  your  own,  then  you  have  got  to  sacrifice  them." 

"'Afflict'  is  a  good  word  in  this  instance,"  said  Mr. 
Winton.  "It  is  painful  to  a  man  of  experience  to  see  you 
young  fellows  of  such  great  promise  come  up  and  'kick* 
yourself  half  to  death  'against  the  pricks'  of  established 
business,  parties,  and  customs,  but  half  of  you  do  it.  In 
the  end  all  of  you  come  limping  in,  poor,  disheartened,  de- 
feated, and  then  swing  to  the  other  extreme,  by  being  so 
willing  for  a  change  you'll  take  almost  anything,  and  so  the 
dirty  jobs  naturally  fall  to  you." 

"I  grant  much  of  that,"  Douglas  said,  in  his  deliberate 


MOCCASINS  AND  LADY  SLIPPERS         41 

way,  "but  happily  I  have  sufficient  annual  income  from 
my  father's  estate  to  enable  me  to  live  until  I  become  ac- 
quainted in  a  strange  city,  and  have  time  to  establish  the 
kind  of  business  I  should  care  to  handle.  I  am  thinking  of 
practising  corporation  law;  I  specialized  in  that,  so  I  may 
have  the  pleasure  before  so  very  long  of  going  after  some  of 
the  men  who  do  what  you  so  aptly  term  the  'dirty'  jobs." 

"A  repetition  of  the  customary  chorus,"  said  Mr.  Win- 
ton,  "differing  only  in  that  it  is  a  little  more  emphatic  than 
usual.  I  predict  that  you  will  become  an  office-bolder, 
having  party  affiliations,  inside  ten  years." 

"Possibly,"  said  Douglas.  "But  I'll  promise  you  this: 
it  will  be  a  new  office  no  man  ever  before  has  held,  in  the 
gift  of  a  party  not  now  in  existence." 

"Oh  you  dreamers ! "  cried  Mr.  Winton.  "What  a  won- 
derful thing  it  is  to  be  young  and  setting  out  to  reform  the 
world,  especially  on  a  permanent  income.  That's  where 
you  surpass  most  reformers.'* 

"But  I  said  nothing  about  reform,"  corrected  Douglas. 
"I  said  I  was  thinking  of  corporation  law." 

"I'm  accustomed  to  it;  while  you  wouldn't  scare  Leslie 
if  you  said  'reform,'"  remarked  Mr.  Winton.  "She's  a 
reformer  herself,  you  know." 

"But  only  sweat-shops,  child  labour,  civic  improvement, 
preservation  of  the  wild,  and  things  like  that!"  cried  Leslie 
so  quickly  and  eagerly,  that  both  men  laughed. 

"God  be  praised!"  exclaimed  her  father. 

"God  be  fervently  praised!"  echoed  her  lover. 

Before  she  retired  Leslie  visited  the  slippers. 

"I'd  like  to  know,"  she  said  softly,  as  she  touched  a 


4^  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

bronze  striped  calyx,  "I'd  like  to  know  how  I  am  to  pene- 
trate your  location,  and  find  and  fashion  anything  to  outdo 
you  and  the  squaw,  you  wood  creatures  you!"  Then  she 
bent  above  the  flowers  and  whispered:  'Tuck  this  in  the 
toe  of  your  slipper!  Three  times  to-night  it  was  in  his 
eyes,  and  on  his  tongue,  but  his  slowness  let  the  moment 
pass.  I  can  'bide  a  wee'  for  my  Scotsman,  I  can  bide  for- 
ever, if  I  must;  for  it's  he  only,  and  no  other." 

The  moccasins  soon  had  been  ground  to  pulp  and  car- 
ried away  on  a  non-skid  tire  while  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning  a  cross ,  dishevelled  society  woman,  in  passing 
from  her  dressing  room  to  her  bed,  stumbled  over  the  osier 
basket,  kicking  it  from  her  way. 


CHAPTER  III 

s.  o.  s. 

MICKEY,  his  responsibility  weighing  upon  him, 
slept    lightly    and    awakened    early,    his   first 
thought  of  Peaches.     He  slipped  into  his  cloth- 
ing and  advancing  peered  at  her  through  the  grayness. 
His  heart  beat  wildly. 

"Aw  you  poor  kid!  You  poor  little  kid!"  he  whispered 
to  himself  as  he  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of  doing  for  com- 
pany. "The  scaring,  the  jolting,  the  scouring,  and 
everything  were  too  much  for  you.  You've  gone  sure! 
You're  just  like  them  at  the  morgue.  Aw  Peaches!  I 
didn't  mean  to  hurt  you,  Peaches!  I  was  trying  to  be 

good  to  you.     Honest  I  was,  Peaches!     Aw !" 

As  his  fright  increased  Mickey  raised  his  voice  until  his 
last  wail  reached  the  consciousness  of  the  sleeping  child. 
She  stirred  slightly,  her  head  moving  on  the  pillow. 
Mickey  almost  fell,  so  great  was  his  relief.  He  stepped 
closer,  gazing  in  awe.  The  sheared  hair  had  dried  in  the 
night,  tumbling  into  a  hundred  golden  ringlets.  The 
tiny  clean  face  was  white,  so  white  that  the  blue  of  the 
closed  eyes  showed  darkly  through  the  lids,  the  blue  veins 
streaked  the  temples  and  the  little  claws  lying  relaxed  on 
the  sheet.  Mickey  slowly  broke  up  inside.  A  big,  hard 
lump  grew  in  his  throat.  He  shut  his  lips  tight  and  bored 

43 


44  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

the  tears  from  his  eyes  with  his  wiry  fists.  He  began  to 
mutter  his  thoughts  to  regain  self-control. 

"Gee  kid,  but  you  had  me  scared  to  the  limit!"  he  said. 
"I  thought  you  were  gone,  sure.  Honest  I  did!  Ain't  I 
glad  though!  But  you're  the  whitest  thing!  You're 

like I'll  tell  you  what  you're  like.  You're  like  the 

lily  flowers  in  the  store  windows  at  Easter.  You're  white 
like  them,  and  your  hair  is  the  little  bit  of  gold  decorating 
them.  If  I'd  known  it  was  like  that  I  wouldn't  a-cut  it  if 
I'd  spent  a  month  untangling  it.  Honest  I  wouldn't,  kid! 
I'm  awful  sorry!  Gee,  but  it  would  a-been  pretty  spread 
over  mother's  pillow." 

Mickey  gazed,  worshipped  and  rejoiced  as  he  bent  lower 
from  time  to  time  to  watch  the  fluttering  breath. 

"You're  so  clean  now  you  just  smell  good;  but  I  got  to 
go  easy.  The  dirt  covered  you  so  I  didn't  see  how  sick 
you  were.  You'll  go  out  like  a  candle,  that's  what  you'll 
do.  I  mustn't  let  even  the  wind  blow  cold  on  you.  I 
couldn't  stand  it  if  I  was  to  hurt  you.  I'd  just  go  and  lay 
down  before  the  cars  or  jump  down  an  elevator  hole. 
Gee,  I'm  glad  I  found  you!  I  wouldn't  trade  you  for  the 
smartest  dog  that's  being  rode  around  in  the  parks.  Nor 
for  the  parks!  Nor  the  trees!  Nor  the  birds!  Nor  the 
buildings!  Nor  the  swimming  places!  Nor  the  auto- 
mobiles! Nor  nothing!  Not  nothing  you  could  mention 
at  all!  Not  eating!  Nor  seeing!  Nor  having!  Not  no 
single  thing — nothing  at  all — Lily! 

"Lily!"  he  repeated.  "Little  snow  white  lily!  Peaches 
is  a  good  name  for  you  if  you're  referring  to  sweetness,  but 
it  doesn't  fit  for  colour.  Least  I  never  saw  none  white 


S.  O.  S.  45 

Lily  fits  you  better.  If  you'd  been  a  dog,  I  was  going  to 
name  you  Partner.  But  you're  mine  just  as  much  as  if 
you  was  a  dog,  so  I'll  name  you  if  I  want  to.  Lily!  That's 
what  God  made  you;  that's  what  I'm  going  to  call 
you." 

The  God  thought,  evoked  by  creation,  remained  in  Mick- 
ey's heart.  He  glanced  at  the  sky  clearing  from  the 
graying  mists  of  morning,  while  the  rumble  of  the  streets 
came  up  to  him  in  a  dull  roar. 

"O  God,  I  guess  I  been  forgetting  my  praying  some, 
since  mother  went.  I'd  nothing  but  myself  and  I  ain't 
worth  bothering  You  about.  But  O  God,  if  You  are 
going  to  do  any  big  things  to-day,  why  not  do  some  for 
Lily?  Can't  be  many  that  needs  it  more.  If  You  saw 
her  yesterday,  You  must  see  if  You'll-  look  down  now, 
that  she's  better  off,  she's  worlds  better  off.  Wonder  if 
You  sent  me  to  get  her,  so  she  would  be  better  off.  Gee, 
why  didn't  You  send  one  of  them  millyingaires  who  could 
a-dressed  her  up,  fed  her  and  took  her  to  the  country 
where  the  sun  would  shine  on  her.  Ain't  never  touched 
her,  I  bet  a  liberty-bird.  But  if  You  did  the  sending, 
You  sent  just  me,  so  she's  my  job,  an'  I'll  do  her!  But  I 
wish  You'd  help  me,  or  send  me  help,  O  God.  It's  an 
awful  job  to  tackle  all  alone,  for  I'm  going  to  be  scared 
stiff  if  she  gets  sick.  I  can  tell  by  how  I  felt  when  I 
thought  she  was  gone.  So  if  You  sent  me  God,  it's  up  to 
You  to  help  me.  Come  on  now!  If  You  see  the  sparrows 
when  they  fall,  You  jest  good  naturedly  ought  to  see  Lily 
Peaches,  'cause  she's  always  been  down,  and  she  can't  ever 
get  up,  unless  we  can  help  her.  Help  me  all  You  can  O 


46  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

God,  and  send  me  help  to  help  her  all  I  can,  'cause  she  can 
use  all  the  help  she  can  get,  and  then  some!  Amen!" 

Mickey  took  one  of  Peaches'  hands  in  his. 

"I  ain't  the  time  now,  but  to-night  I  got  to  cut  your 
nails  and  clean  them,  then  I  guess  you'll  do  to  start 
on,"  he  said  as  he  squeezed  the  hand.  "Lily!  Lily 
Peaches,  wake  up!  It's  morning  now.  I  got  to  go  out 
with  the  papers  to  earn  supper  to-night.  Wake  up!  I 
must  wash  you  and  feed  you  'fore  I  go." 

Peaches  opened  her  eyes,  drawing  back  startled. 

"Easy  now!"  cautioned  Mickey.  "Easy  now!  Don't 
be  scared.  Nobody  can  'get'  you  here!  What  you  want 
for  breakfast,  Flowersy-girl?  Little  Lily  white." 

An  adorable  smile  illumined  the  tiny  face  at  the  first 
kindly  awakening  it  ever  had  known. 

"  You  won't  let  them  'get'  me,  will  you?"  she  triumphed. 

"You  know  it!"  he  answered  conclusively.  "Now  I'll 
wash  your  face,  cook  your  breakfast,  and  fix  you  at  the 
window  where  maybe  you  can  see  birds  going  across. 
Think  of  that,  Lily!  Birds!" 

"My  name's  Peaches!"  said  the  child. 

"  So  'tis ! "  said  Mickey.  "  But  since  you  arrived  to  such 
bettered  conditions,  you  got  to  be  a  lady  of  fashion.  Now 
Peaches,  every  single  kid  in  the  Park  is  named  two  names, 
these  days.  Fellow  can't  have  a  foot  race  for  falling  over 
Mary  Elizabeths,  and  Louisa  Ellens.  I  can't  do  so  much 
just  to  start  on,  'cause  I  can't  earn  the  boodle;  fast  as 
I  get  it,  you're  going  to  line  up;  but  nachally,  just  at  start- 
ing you  must  begin  on  the  things  that  are  not  expensive. 
Now  names  don't  cost  anything,  so  I  can  be  giving  you  six 


S.  O.  S.  47 

if  I  like,  and  you  are  a  lily,  so  right  now  I'm  naming  you 
Lily,  but  two's  the  style;  keep  your  Peaches,  if  it  suits  you. 
Lily  just  flies  out  of  my  mouth  when  I  look  at  you/' 

This  was  wonderful.  No  cursing!  No  beating!  No 
wailing  over  a  lame-back  brat  to  feed.  Mickey  liked  to 
give  her  breakfast!  Mickey  named  her  for  the  wonderful 
flower  like  granny  had  picked  up  before  a  church  one  day, 
a  few  weeks  ago  and  in  a  rare  sober  moment  had  carried  to 
her.  Mickey  had  made  her  feel  clean,  so  rested,  and 
so  fresh  she  wanted  to  roll  over  the  bed.  With  child  im- 
pulse she  put  up  her  arms.  Mickey  stooped  to  them. 

"You  goin'  to  have  two  names  too,"  she  said.  "You 
gotter  be  fash'nable.  I  ist  love  you  for  everything  wash- 
in',  an'  breakfast,  an'  the  bed,  an'  winder,  an'  ofFthe  floor; 
oh  I  just  love  you  sick  for  the  winder,  an'  off  the  floor. 
You  going  to  be" — she  paused  in  a  deep  study  to  think  of 
a  word  anywhere  nearly  adequate,  then  ended  in  a  burst  • 
that  was  her  best  emanation — "lovest!  Mickey-lovest ! " ) 

She  hugged  him  closely,  then  lifted  her  chin  and  pursed  > 
her  lips.     Mickey  pulled  back,  a  dull  colour  in  his  face. 

"Now  nix  on  the  mushing!"  he  said.  "I'll  stand  for  a 
hug  once  a  day,  but  nix  on  the  smear!" 

"You'd  let  a  dog,"  she  whimpered.     "I  ain't  kissed 
nothin'  since  granny  sold  the  doll  a  lady  gave  me  the  time 
we  went  to  the  doctor's,  an'  took  the  money  to  get  drunk  T 
on,  an'  beat  me  more'n  I  needed  for  a  change,  'cause  I 
cried  for  it.     I  think  you  might!" 

"Aw  well,  go  on  then,  if  you're  going  to  bawl,"  said 
Mickey,  "but  put  it  there!" 

He  stepped  as  far  back  as  he  could,  leaned  over,  and 


48  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

swept  the  hair  from  his  forehead,  which  he  brought  in 
range  of  her  lips.  He  had  to  brace  himself  to  keep  from 
flinching  at  their  cold  touch  and  straightened  in  relief. 

"Now  that's  over!"  he  said  briskly.  "I'll  wash  you, 
and  get  your  breakfast." 

"You  do  a  lot  of  washin',  don't  you?"  inquired  Peaches. 

"You  want  the  sleep  out  of  your  eyes,"  coaxed 
Mickey. 

He  brought  the  basin  and  a  cloth,  washing  the  child's 
face  and  hands  gently  as  was  in  his  power. 

"Flowersy-girl,"  he  said,  "if  you'd  looked  last  night  like 
you  do  this  morning,  I'd  never  tackled  getting  you  here  in 
the  world.  I'd  thought  you'd  break  sure." 

"G'wan  kid,"  she  said.  "I  can  stand  a  lot.  I  been 
knocked  round  somepin  awful.  She  dragged  me  by  one 
hand  or  the  hair  when  she  was  tight,  and  threw  me  in  a 
corner  an'  took  the" — Peaches  glanced  over  the  bed, 
refusing  to  call  her  former  estate  by  the  same  name — "took 
the  place  herself.  You  ain't  hurting  me.  You  can  jerk 
me  a  lot." 

"I  guess  you've  been  jerked  enough,  Lily  Peaches,"  he 
said.  "I  guess  jerkin'  ain't  going  to  help  your  back  any. 
I  think  we  better  be  easy  with  it  'til  we  lay  up  the  money 
to  Carrel  it.  He  put  different  legs  on  a  dog,  course  he  can 
put  a  new  back  on  you." 

"Dogs  doesn't  count  only  with  rich  folks  'at  rides  'em, 
an'  feeds  'em  cake;  but  where'll  you  find  'nother  girl  'at  ull 
spare  her  back  for  me,  Mickey-lovest  ? "  asked  Peaches. 

"Gee,  Lily!"  he  cried.  "I  didn't  think  of  that— I  wish 
I  hadn't  promised  you.  Course  he  could  change  the  backs. 


S.  O.  S.  49 

but  where'd  I  get  one.  I'll  just  have  to  let  him  take 
mine." 

"I  don't  want  no  boy's  back!"  flashed  Peaches.  "I 
won't  go  out  an'  sell  papers,  an'  wash  you,  an'  feed  you, 
an'  let  you  stay  here  in  this  nice  bed.  I  don't  want  no 
new  back,  grand  like  it  is  here.  I  won't  have  no  dog's 
back,  even.  I  won't  have  no  back!" 

"Course  I  couldn't  let  you  work  and  take  care  of  me, 
Lily,"  he  said.  "Course  I  couldn't!  I  was  just  thinking 
what  I  could  do.  I'll  write  a  letter  and  ask  the  Carrel  man 
if  a  dog's -back  would  do.  I  could  get  one  your  size  at  the 
pound,  maybe." 

Peaches  arose  at  him  with  hands  set  like  claws. 

"You  fool!"  she  shrieked.  "You  big  damn  fool!  (A 
dogs  back!'  I  won't!  You  try  it  an'  I'll  scratch  your 
eyes  out!  You  stop  right  now  on  backs  an'  go  hell-bent 
an'  get  my  breakfast!  I'm  hungry!  I  like  my  back!  I 
will  have  it!  You — • — " 

Mickey  snatched  his  pillow  from  the  floor,  using  it  to 
press  the  child  against  hers.  Then  he  slipped  it  down  a 
trifle  at  one  corner  and  spoke: 

"Now  you  cut  that  out,  Miss  Chicken,  right  off!"  he 
said  sternly.  "I  wouldn't  take  no  tantrums  from  a  dog, 
so  I  won't  from  you.  You'll  make  your  back  worse  act- 
ing like  that,  than  beating  would  make  it,  and  'sides,  if 
you're  going  to  live  with  me,  you  must  be  a  lady.  No  lady 
says  such  words  as  you  used,  and  neither  does  no  gentle- 
man, 'cause  I  don't  myself.  Now  you'll  either  say, 
*  Mickey,  please  get  me  my  breakfast,'  and  I'll  get  you  one 
with  a  big  surprise,  or  you'll  lay  here  alone  and  hungry 


50  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

'til  I  come  back  to-night.  And  it'll  be  a  whole  day, 
see?" 

"F  I  wasn't  a  pore  crippled  kid,  you  wouldn't  say  that 
to  me,"  she  wailed. 

"And  if  you  wasn't  *a  poor  crippled  kid,'  you  wouldn't 
say  swearin's  to  me,"  said  Mickey,  "'cause  you  know  I'd 
lick  the  stuffin'  out  of  you,  and  if  you  could  see  yourself, 
you'd  know  that  you  need  stuffin'  in,  more  than  you  need 
it  out.  I'm  'mazed  at  you!  Forget  that  you  ever  heard 
such  stuff,  and  be  a  nice  lady,  won't  you?  My  time's  get- 
ting short  and  I  got  to  go,  or  the  other  kids  will  sell  to  my 
paper  men,  then  we'll  have  no  supper.  Now  you  say, 
'Mickey,  please  get  my  breakfast,'  like  a  lady,  or  you  won't 
get  a  bite." 

"'Mickey,  please  get  my  breakfast,'"  she  imitated. 

Mickey  advanced  threateningly  with  the  pillow. 

"Won't  do!"  he  said.  "That  ain't  like  no  lady! 
That's  like  me.  You'll  say  it  like  yourself y  or  you  won't 
get  it." 

She  closed  her  lips,  burying  her  face  in  her  own  pillow. 

"All  right,"  said  Mickey.  "Then  I'll  get  my  own.  If 
you  don't  want  any,  I'll  have  twice  as  much." 

He  laid  the  pillow  on  the  foot  of  the  bed,  saying  politely: 
"'Scuse  me,  Lily,  till  I  get  me  a  bottle  of  milk." 

Soon  he  returned  and  with  his  first  glimpse  of  the  bed 
stood  aghast.  It  was  empty.  His  eyes  searched  the 
room.  His  pallet  on  the  floor  outlined  a  tiny  form.  A 
J.bmayed  half  smile  flashed  over  his  face.  He  took 
a  step  toward  her,  and  then  turned,  getting  out  a  cloth 
he  had  not  used  since  being  alone.  Near  the  bed  he  set 


S.  O.  S.  51 

the  table  and  laid  a  plate,  knife,  fork  and  spoon.  Be- 
cause he  was  watching  Peaches  he  soon  discovered  she 
was  peeking  out  at  him,  so  he  paid  strict  attention  to  the 
burner  he  was^ighting. 

Then  he  sliced  bread,  put  on  a  toaster,  set  the  milk  on 
the  table,  broke  an  egg  in  a  saucer,  and  turned  the  toast. 
Soon  the  odours  filled  the  room,  also  a  pitiful  sound. 
Mickey  knew  Peaches  must  have  hurt  herself  sliding  from 
the  bed,  although  her  arms  were  strong  for  the  remainder 
of  her  body.  She  had  no  way  to  reach  his  pallet  but  to 
roll  across  the  floor.  She  might  have  bruised  herself 
badly.  He  was  amazed,  disgusted,  yet  compassionate. 
He  went  to  her  and  turned  back  the  comfort. 

"You  must  be  speaking  a  little  louder,  Lily,"  he  said 
gently.  "I  wasn't  quite  hearing  you." 

Only  muffled  sobbing.     Mickey  dropped  the  cover. 

"I  want  my  breakfast,"  said  a  very  small  voice. 

"You  mean,  *  Mickey,  please  get  my  breakfast,'  Flow- 
ersy-girl,"  he  corrected  gently. 

"Oh  I  hurt  myself  so!"  Peaches  wailed.  "Oh  Mickey, 
I  fell  an'  broke  my  back  clear  in  two.  'Tain't  like  rollin'  off 
my  rags;  oh  Mickey,  it's  so  far  to  the  floor,  from  your  bed! 
Oh  Mickey,  even  another  girl's  back,  or  yours,  or  a  dog's, 
or  anybody's  wouldn't  fix  it  now.  It'll  hurt  for  days. 
Mickey,  why  did  I  ever?  Oh  what  made  me?  Mickey- 
lovest,  please,  please  put  me  back  on  the  nice  fine  bed, 
an'  do  please  give  me  some  of  that  bread." 

Mickey  lifted  her,  crooning  incoherent  things.  He 
wiped  her  face  and  hands,  combed  her  hair,  and  pushed  the 
table  against  the  bed.  He  broke  toast  in  a  glass  and 


52  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

poured  milk  over  it.  Then  he  cooked  the  egg  and  gave  her 
that,  keeping  only  half  the  milk  and  one  slice  of  bread.  He 
made  a  sandwich  of  more  bread,  and  the  cheese,  put  a 
banana  with  it,  set  a  cup  of  water  in  reach,  and  told  her 
that  was  her  lunch;  to  eat  it  when  the  noon  whistles  blew. 
Then  he  laid  all  the  picture  books  he  had  on  the  back  of  the 
bed,  put  the  money  for  his  papers  in  his  pocket,  and  locking 
her  in,  ran  down  Sunrise  Alley  fast  as  he  could. 

He  was  one  hour  late.  He  had  missed  two  regular  cus- 
tomers. They  must  be  made  up  and  more.  Light,  air, 
cleanliness,  and  kindness  would  increase  Peaches'  appetite, 
which  seemed  big  now  for  the  size  of  her  body.  Mickey's 
face  was  very  sober  when  he  allowed  himself  to  think  of  his 
undertaking.  How  would  he  make  it?  He  had  her  now, 
he  simply  must  succeed.  The  day  was  half  over  before 
Mickey  began  to  laugh  for  no  apparent  reason.  He  had 
realized  that  she  had  not  said  what  he  had  required  of  her, 
after  all. 

"Gee,  I'm  up  against  it,"  said  Mickey.  "I  didn't 
s'pose  she'd  act  like  that!  I  thought  she'd  keep  on 
being  like  when  she  woke  up.  I  never  behaved  like 
that." 

Then  in  swift  remorse:  "But  I  had  the  finest  mother  a 
fellow  ever  had  to  tell  me,  while  she  ain't  had  any  one,  and 
only  got  me  now,  so  I'll  have  to  tell  her;  course  I  can't  do 
everything  at  once.  So  far  as  that  goes,  she  didn't  do  any 
worse  than  the  millyingaires'  kids  in  the  park  who  roll 
themselves  in  the  dirt,  bump  their  own  heads,  and  scream 
and  fight.  I  guess  my  kid's  no  worse  than  other  people's. 
I  can  train  her  like  mother  did  me;  then  we'll  be  enough 


"Now  you  cut  that  out,  Miss  Chicken,  right  off!" 
said  Mickey. 


S.  O.  S.  53 

alike  we  can  live  together,  and  even  when  she  was  the 
worst,  I  liked  her.  I  liked  her  cartloads." 

So  Mickey  shouldered  the  duties  of  paternity,  and  began 
thinking  for  his  child,  his  little,  neglected,  bad,  sick  child. 
His  wits  and  feet  always  had  been  nimble;  that  day  he  ex- 
celled himself.  Anxiety  as  to  how  much  he  must  carry  home 
at  night  to  replace  what  he  had  spent  in  moving  Peaches  to 
his  room,  three  extra  meals  to  provide  before  to-morrow 
night,  something  to  interest  her  through  the  long  day:  it 
was  a  contract,  surely!  Mickey  faced  it  gravely,  but  he 
did  not  flinch.  He  did  not  know  how  it  was  to  be  done, 
but  he  did  know  it  must  be  done.  "Get"  her  they  should 
not.  Whatever  it  had  been  his  mother  had  feared  for  him, 
nameless  though  the  horror  was,  from  that  he  must  save 
Lily.  Mickey  had  thought  it  must  be  careless  nurses  or 
lack  of  love.  Yesterday's  papers  had  said  there  were  some 
children  at  one  of  the  Homes,  no  one  ever  visited;  they 
were  sick  for  love;  would  not  some  kind  people  come  to  see 
them?  It  must  have  been  that  she  feared.  He  could  not 
possibly  know  it  was  the  stigma  of  having  been  a  charity 
child  she  had  been  combating  with  all  her  power. 

They  had  not  "got"  him;  they  must  not  "gef"  his 
Lily;  yet  stirrings  in  Mickey's  brain  told  him  he  was  not 
going  to  be  sufficient,  alone.  There  were  emergencies  he 
did  not  know  how  to  manage.  He  must  have  help. 
Mickey  revolved  the  problem  in  his  worried  head  without 
reaching  a  solution.  His  necessity  drove  him.  He  darted, 
dodged  and  took  chances.  Far  down  the  street  he 
selected  his  victim  and  studied  his  method  of  assault  as  he 
approached;  for  Mickey  did  victimize  people  that  day. 


5;  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

He  sold  them  papers  when  they  dul  not  want  them.  He 
bettered  that  and  sold  them  papcrj  when  they  had  them. 
He  snatched  up  lost  papers,  smoothed  and  sold  them  over. 
Every  gay  picture  or  broken  toy  dropped  from  an  auto- 
mobile he  caught  up  and  pocketed  for  her. 

A  woman  stumbled  alighting  from  a  passing  car.  Mickey 
dropped  his  papers  and  sprang  forward.  Her  weight 
bore  him  to  the  pavement,  but  he  kept  her  from  falling, 
and  even  as  he  felt  her  on  her  feet,  he  snatched  under 
the  wheels  for  her  purse. 

"Is  that  all  your  stuff,  lady?"  he  asked. 

"Thank  you!     I  think  so,"  she  said.     "Wait  a  minute!" 

To  lend  help  was  an  hourly  occurrence  with  Mickey. 
She  had  been  most  particular  to  teach  him  that.  He  was 
gathering  up  and  smoothing  his  papers  several  of  which 
were  soiled.  The  woman  opened  the  purse  he  had  res- 
cued, taking  therefrom  a  bill  which  she  offered  him. 

"Thanks!"  said  Mickey.  "My  shoulder  is  worth  con- 
siderable to  me;  but  nothing  like  that  to  you,  lady!" 

"Well!"  she  said.     "Are  you  refusing  the  money?" 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "I  ain't  a  beggar!  Just  a  bal- 
ance on  my  shoulder  and  picking  up  your  purse  ain't 
worth  an  endowment.  I'll  take  five  cents  each  for  three 
soiled  papers,  if  you  say  so.'* 

"You  amazing  boy!"  said  the  woman.  "Don't  you 
understand  that  if  you  hadn't  offered  your  shoulder,  I 
might  now  be  lying  senseless?  You  saved  me  a  hard  fall, 
while  my  dress  would  have  been  ruined.  You  step  over 
here  a  minute.  What's  your  name?" 

"  Michael  O'Halloran,"  was  the  answer. 


S.  O.  S.  55 

"Where  do  you  live?" 

"Sunrise  Alley.  It's  miles  on  the  cars,  then  some  more 
walking,"  explained  Mickey. 

"Whom  do  you  live  with?" 

"Myself,"  said  Mickey. 

"Alone?" 
.   "All  but  Peaches,"  said  Mickey.     "Lily  Peaches." 

"Who  is  Lily  Peaches?" 

"She's  about  so  long" — Mickey  showed  how  long — 
"and  about  so  wide" — he  showed  how  wide — "and  white 
like  Easter  church  flowers.  Her  back's  bad.  I'm  her 
governor;  she's  my  child." 

"If  you  won't  take  the  money  for  yourself,  then  take  it 
for  her,"  offered  the  woman.  "If  you  have  a  little  sick 
girl  to  support,  you  surely  can  use  it." 

"Umm!"  said  Mickey.  "You  kind  of  ball  a  fellow  up 
and  hang  him  on  the  ropes.  Honest  you  do,  lady!  I  can 
take  care  of  myself.  I  know  I  can,  'cause  I've  done  it 
three  years,  but  I  don't  know  how  I'm  goin'  to  make  it 
with  Lily,  for  she  needs  a  lot.  She  may  get  sick  any 
day,  so  I  ain't  sure  how  I'm  going  to  manage  well  with 
her." 

"How  long  have  you  taken  care  of  her?" 

"Since  last  night,"  explained  Mickey. 

"Oh!     How  old  is  she?"     Questions  seemed  endless. 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Mickey.  "Her  granny  died 
and  left  her  lying  on  rags  in  a  garret.  I  found  her  screech- 
ing, so  I  took  her  to  my  castle  and  washed  her,  and  fed  her. 
You  should  see  her  now." 

"I  believe  I  should!"  said  the  woman.     "Let's  go  at 


56  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

once.     You  know  Michael,  you  can't  care  for  a  girl.     I'll 
put  her  in  one  of  the  beautiful  Children's  Homes " 

"Now  nix  on  the  Children's  Homes,  fair  lady!"  he  cried 
angrily.  "I  guess  you'll  find  her,  'fore  you  take  her!  I 
found  her  first,  and  she's  mine!  I  guess  you'll  find  her, 
Yore  you  take  her  to  a  Children's  Home,  where  the  doctors 
slice  up  the  poor  kids  for  practice  so  they'll  know  how  to 
get  money  for  doing  it  to  the  rich  ones.  I've  annexed  Lily 
Peaches,  and  you  don't  *  get9  her!  See?" 

"I  see,"  said  the  woman.     "But  you're  mistaken— 

'"Scuse  crossing  your  wire,  but  I  don't  think  I  am,"  said 
Mickey.  "The  only  way  you  can  know,  is  to  have  been 
there  yourself.  I  don't  think  you  got  that  kind  of  a  start, 
or  want  it  for  kids  of  your  own.  My  mother  killed  herself 
to  keep  me  out  of  it,  and  if  it  had  been  so  grand,  she'd 
wanted  me  there.  Nix  on  the  Orphings'  Home  talk.  Lily 
ain't  going  to  be  raised  in  droves,  nor  flocks,  nor  herds! 
See?  Lily's  going  to  have  a  home  of  her  own,  and  a  man 
to  take  care  of  her  by  herself." 

Mickey  backed  away,  swallowing  a  big  lump  in  his 
throat,  and  blinking  down  angry  tears. 

"Smorning,"  he  said,  "I  asked  God  to  help  me,  and  for 
a  minute  I  was  so  glad,  'cause  I  thought  He'd  helped 
by  sending  you,  so  you  could  tell  me  how  to  do;  but  if 
God  can't  beat  you,  I  can  get  along  by  myself." 

"You  can't  take  care  of  a  girl  by  yourself,"  she  insisted. 
"The  law  won't  allow  you." 

"Oh  can't  I?"  scoffed  Mickey.  "Well  you're  mis- 
taken, 'cause  I  am !  And  getting  along  bully !  You  ought 
to  seen  her  last  night,  and  then  this  morning.  Next  time 


S.  0.  S.  57 

I  yell  for  help,  I  won't  ask  to  have  anybody  sent,  I'll  ask 
Him  to  help  me  save  our  souls,  myself.  Ever  see  that  big, 
white,  wonderful  Jesus  at  the  Cathedral  door,  ma'am, 
holding  the  little  child  in  His  arms  so  loving?  I  don't 
s'pose  He  stopped  to  ask  whether  it  was  a  girl,  or  a  boy, 
'fore  He  took  it  up;  He  just  opened  his  arms  to  the  first 
child  that  needed  Him.  And  if  I  remember  right,  He  didn't 
say:  'Suffer  little  children  to  be  sent  to  Orphings'  Homes/ 
Mammy  never  read  it  to  me  that  way.  It  was  suffer  them 
to  come  to  'Me,'  and  be  took  up,  and  held  tender.  See? 
Nix  on  the  Orphings'  Home  people.  They  ain't  in  my 
class.  Beaucheous  lady,  adoo!  Farewell!  I  depart!" 

Mickey  wheeled,  vanishing.  It  was  a  wonderful  ex- 
hibition of  curves,  leaps,  and  darts.  He  paused  for  breath 
when  he  felt  safe. 

"So  that's  the  dope!"  he  marvelled.  "I  can't  take 
care  of  a  girl  ?  Going  to  take  her  away  from  me  ?  I'd  like 
to  know  winy  ?  Men  all  the  time  take  care  of  women. 
I  see  boys  taking  care  of  girls  I  know  their  mothers  left 
with  them,  every  day — I'd  like  to  know  why.  Mother 
said  I  was  to  take  care  of  her.  She  said  that's  what  men 
were  made/or.  'Cause  he  didnt  take  care  of  her,  was  why 
she  was  glad  my  father  was  dead.  I  guess  I  know  what 
I'm  doing!  But  I've  learned  something!  Nix  on  the  easy 
talk  after  this;  and  telling  anybody  you  meet  all  you 
know.  Shut  mouth  from  now  on.  'What's  your  name, 
little  boy?'  'Andrew  Carnegie.'  'Where  d'you  live?' 
'Castle  on  the  Hudson!'  A  mouth  just  tight  shut  about 
Lily,  after  this!  And  nix  on  the  Swell  Dames!  Next  one 
can  bust  her  crust  for  all  I  care!  I  won't  touch  her!" 


58  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

On  the  instant,  precisely  that  thing  occurred,  at  Mick- 
ey's very  feet.  With  his  lips  not  yet  closed,  he  knelt  to 
shove  his  papers  under  a  woman's  head,  then  went  racing 
up  the  stone  steps  she  had  rolled  down,  his  quick  eye  catch- 
ing and  avoiding  the  bit  of  fruit  on  which  she  had  slipped. 
He  returned  in  a  second  with  help.  As  the  porter  lifted 
the  inert  body,  Mickey  slid  his  hands  under  her  head,  and 
advised:  "Keep  her  straight!"  Into  one  of  the  big  hos- 
pitals he  helped  carry  a  blue  and  white  clad  nurse,  on  and 
on,  up  elevators  and  into  a  white  porcelain  room  where 
they  laid  her  on  a  glass  table.  Mickey  watched  with 
frightened  eyes.  Doctors  and  nurses  came  running.  He 
stood  waiting  for  his  papers.  He  was  rather  sick,  yet  he 
remembered  he  had  five  there  he  must  sell. 

"Better  clear  out  of  here  now!"  suggested  a  surgeon. 

"My  papers!"  said  Mickey.  "She  fell  right  cross  my 
feet.  I  slid  them  under,  to  make  her  head  more  pillow- 
like  on  the  stones.  Maybe  I  can  sell  some  of  them." 

The  surgeon  motioned  to  a  nurse  at  the  door. 

"Take  this  youngster  to  the  office  and  pay  him  for  the 
papers  he  has  spoiled,"  he  ordered. 

"Will  she — is  she  going  to ?"  wavered  Mickey. 

"I'm  not  sure,"  said  the  surgeon.  "From  the  bleeding 
probably  concussion;  but  she  will  live.  Do  you  know 
how  she  came  to  fall?" 

There  was  a  smear  of  something  on  the  steps  she 
didn't  see,"  explained  Mickey. 

"Thank  you!  Go  with  the  nurse,"  said  the  surgeon. 
Then  to  an  attendant:  "Take  Miss  Alden's  number,  and 
see  to  her  case.  She  was  going  after  something." 


S.  O.  S.  59 

Mickey  turned  back.  "Paper,  maybe,"  he  suggested, 
pointing  to  her  closed  hand.  The  surgeon  opened  it  and 
found  a  nickel.  He  handed  it  to  Mickey.  "If  you  have 
a  clean  one  left,  let  this  nurse  take  it  to  Miss  Alden's 
case,  and  say  she  has  been  assigned  other  duty.  See  to 
sending  a  substitute  at  once." 

Every  paper  proved  to  be  marked. 

"  I  can  bring  you  a  fresh  one  in  a  second,  lady,"  offered 
Mickey.  "I  got  the  money." 

"All  right,"  she  said.  "Wait  with  it  in  the  office  and 
then  I'll  pay  you." 

"I'm  sent  for  a  paper.  I'm  to  be  let  in  as  soon  as  I 
get  it,"  announced  Mickey  to  the  porter.  "I  ain't  taking 
chances  of  being  turned  down,"  he  said  to  himself,  as  he 
stopped  a  second  to  clean  the  step. 

He  returned  and  was  waiting  when  the  nurse  came. 
She  was  young  and  fair  faced;  her  hair  was  golden,  and  as 
she  paid  Mickey  for  his  papers  he  wondered  how  soon  he 
could  have  Lily  looking  like  her.  He  took  one  long  survey 
as  he  pocketed  the  money,  thinking  he  would  rush  home  at 
once;  but  he  wanted  to  fix  in  his  mind  how  Lily  must  ap- 
pear, to  be  right,  for  he  thought  a  nurse  in  the  hospital 
would  be  right. 

The  nurse  knew  she  was  beautiful,  and  to  her  Mickey's 
long  look  was  tribute,  male  tribute;  a  small  male  indeed, 
but  such  a  winning  one;  so  she  took  the  occasion  to  be  her 
loveliest,  and  smile  her  most  attractive  smile.  Mickey 
surrendered.  He  thought  she  was  like  an  angel,  that 
made  him  think  of  Heaven,  Heaven  made  him  think  of 
God,  God  made  him  think  of  his  call  for  help  that  morning, 


60  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

the  call  made  him  think  of  the  answer,  the  beautiful  woman 
before  him  made  him  think  that  possibly  she  might  be 
the  answer  instead  of  the  other  one.  He  rather  doubted  it, 
but  it  might  be  a  chance.  Mickey  was  alert  for  chances 
for  Peaches,  so  he  smiled  again,  then  he  asked:  "Are  you 
in  such  an  awful  hurry?" 

"I  think  we  owe  you  more  than  merely  paying  for  your 
papers,"  she  said.  "What  is  it?" 

Again  Mickey  showed  how  long  and  how  wide  Lily  was. 
"And  with  hair  like  yours,  and  eyes  and  cheeks  that  would 
be,  if  she  had  her  chance,  and  nobody  to  give  her  that 
chance  but  just  me,"  he  said.  "Me  and  Lily  are  all  each 
other's  got,"  he  explained  hastily.  "We're  home  folks. 
We're  a  family.  We  don't  want  no  bunching  in  corps  and 
squads.  We're  nix  on  the  Orphings'  Home  business;  but 
you  must  know,  ma'am — would  you,  oh  would  you  tell  me 
just  how  I  should  be  taking  care  of  her?  I'm  doing  every- 
thing like  my  mother  did  to  me;  but  I  was  well  and  strong. 
Maybe  Lily,  being  a  girl,  should  have  things  different. 
A-body  so  beautiful  as  you,  would  tell  me,  wouldn't 
you?" 

Then  a  miracle  happened.  The  nurse,  so  clean  she 
smelled  like  a  drug  store,  so  lovely  she  shone  as  a  sunrise, 
laid  an  arm  across  Mickey's  shoulders.  "You  come 
with  me,"  she  said.  She  went  to  a  little  room,  and  all 
alone  she  asked  Mickey  questions;  with  his  eyes  straight 
on  hers,  he  answered.  She  told  him  surely  he  could  take 
care  of  Lily.  She  explained  how.  She  rang  for  a  basket 
and  packed  it  full  of  things  he  must  have,  showing  him 
how  to  use  them.  She  told  him  to  come  each  Saturday 


S.  O.  S.  '6i 

at  four  o'clock,  as  she  was  going  off  duty,  and  tell  her 
how  he  was  getting  along.  She  gave  him  a  thermometer, 
and  told  him  how  to  learn  if  the  child  had  fever.  She  told 
him  about  food,  and  she  put  in  an  ointment,  instructing 
him  to  rub  the  little  back  with  it,  so  the  bed  would  not  be 
so-tiresome.  She  showed  him  how  to  arrange  the  pillows; 
when  he  left,  the  tears  were  rolling  down  Mickey's  cheeks. 
Both  of  them  were  so  touched  she  laid  her  arm  across  his 
shoulder  again  and  went  as  far  as  the  elevator,  while  a 
passport  to  her  at  any  time  was  in  his  pocket. 

"I  'spect  other  folks  tell  you  you  are  beautiful  like 
flowers,  or  music,  or  colours,"  said  Mickey  in  farewell, 
"but  you  look  like  a  window  in  Heaven  to  me,  and  I 
can  see  right  through  you  to  God  and  all  the  beautiful 
angels;  but  what  gets  me  is  why  the  other  one  had  to  bust 
her  crust,  to  make  you  come  true!" 

The  nurse  was  laughing  and  wiping  her  eyes  at  the  same 
time.  Mickey  gripped  the  basket  until  his  hands  were 
stiff  as  he  sped  homeward  at  least  two  hours  early  an^ 
happy  about  it.  At  the  last  grocery  he  remembered  every 
word  and  bought  bread,  milk,  and  fruit  with  care  "for  a1 
sick  lady"  he  explained,  so  the  grocer,  who  knew  himy 
used  care.  Triumphing  Mickey  climbed  the  stairs.  He 
paused  a  second  in  deep  thought  at  the  foot  of  the  last 
flight,  then  ascended  whistling  to  let  Peaches  know  that 
he  was  coming,  then  on  his  threshold  recited: 

"Onc't  a  little  kid  named  Lily, 

Was  so  sweet  she'd  knock  you  silly, 
Yellow  hair  in  millying  curls, 
Beat  a  mile  all  other  girls." 


62  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

She  was  on  his  bed;  she  was  on  his  pillow;  she  had  been 
lonely;  both  arms  were  stretched  toward  him. 

"Mickey,  hurry!"  she  cried.  "Mickey,  lemme  hold 
you  'til  I'm  sure!  Mickey,  all  day  I  didn't  hardly  durst 
breathe,  fear  the  door'd  open  an'  they'd  ' get'  me.  Oh 
Mickey,  you  won't  let  them,  will  you?" 

Mickey  dropped  his  bundles  and  ran  to  the  bed.  This 
time  he  did  not  shrink  from  her  wavering  clasp.  It  was 
delight  to  come  home  to  something  alive,  something  that 
belonged  to  him,  something  to  share  with,  something  to 
work  and  think  for,  something  that  depended  upon 
him. 

"Now  nix  on  the  scare  talk,"  he  comforted.  "Forget 
it!  I've  lived  here  three  years  alone,  and  not  a  single  time 
has  anybody  come  to  'get'  me,  so  they  won't  you.  There's 
only  one  thing  can  happen  us.  If  I  get  sick  or  spend  too 
much  on  eating,  and  don't  pay  the  rent,  the  man  that  owns 
this  building  will  fire  us  out.  If  we,  if  we"  Mickey  re- 
peated impressively,  "pay  our  rent  regular,  in  advance, 
nobody  will  ever  come,  not  ever,  so  don't  worry." 

"Then  what's  all  them  bundles?"  fretted  Peaches. 
"You  ortn't  a-got  so  much.  You'll  never  get  the  next 
rent  paid!  They'll  'get'  me  sure." 

'Now  throttle  your  engine,"  advised  Mickey.  "Stop 
your  car!  Smash  down  on  the  brakes!  They  are  things 
t'.e  city  you  reside  in  furnishes  its  taxpayers,  or  some- 
thing like  that.  I  pay  my  rent,  so  this  is  my  share,  and 
it's  things  for  you:  to  make  you  comfortable.  Which  are 
you  worst — tiredest,  or  hungriest,  or  hottest?" 
"I  don't  know,"  she  said. 


S.  O.  S.  63 

"Then  I'll  make  a  clean  get-a-way,"  said  Mickey, 
"'Washing  is  cooling;  and  it  freshens  you  up  a  lot." 

So  Mickey  brought  his  basin  again,  bathing  the  tired 
child  gently  as  any  woman  could  have  done  it. 

"See  what  I  got!"  he  cried  as  he  opened  bundles  and 
explained.  "I'm  going  to  see  if  you  have  fever." 

Peaches  rebelled  at  the  thermometer. 

"Now  come  on  in,"  urged  Mickey.  "Slide  straight 
home  to  your  base!  If  I'm  going  to  take  care  of  you,  I'm 
going  to  right.  You  can't  lay  here  eating  wrong  things  if 
you  have  fever.  No-sir-ee!  You  don't  get  to  see  in  any 
more  of  these  bundles,  nor  any  supper,  nor  talked  to  any 
more,  'til  you  put  this  little  glass  thing  under  your  tongue 
and  hold  it  there  just  this  way" — Mickey  showed  how 
— "three  minutes  by  the  clock,  then  I'll  know  what  to  do 
with  you  next.  I'll  sit  beside  you,  and  hold  your  hands, 
and  tell  you  about  the  pretty  lady  that  sent  it." 

Mickey  wiped  the  thermometer  on  the  sheet,  then  pre- 
sented it.  Peaches  took  one  long  look  at  him  and  opened 
her  lips.  Mickey  inserted  the  tube,  set  the  clock  in  sight, 
and  taking  both  her  hands  he  held  them  closely  and  talked 
as  fast  as  he  could  to  keep  her  from  using  them.  He  had 
not  half  finished  the  day  when  the  time  was  up.  If  he 
had  done  it  right,  Peaches  had  very  little,  if  any,  fever. 

"Now  turn  over  so  I  can  rub  your  back  to  make  it  all 
nice  and  rested,"  he  said.  "And  then  I'll  get  supper." 

"I  don't  want  my  back  rubbed,"  she  protested.  "My 
back's  all  right  now." 

"Nothing  to  do  with  going  to  have  it  rubbed,"  said 
Mickey.  "It  would  be  a  silly  girl  who  would  have  a  back 


64  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

that  wouldn't  walk,  and  then  wouldn't  even  try  having  it 
doctored,  so  that  it  would  get  better.  Just  try  Lily,  and 
if  it  doesn't  help,  I  won't  do  it  any  more." 

Peaches  took  another  long  look  at  Mickey,  questioning 
in  nature,  then  turned  her  back  to  him. 

"Gosh,  kid!  Your  back  looks  just  like  horses'  going  to 
the  fertilizer  plant,"  he  said. 

"Ain't  that  swearin's?"  asked  Peaches  promptly. 

"First-cousin,"  answered  Mickey.  "'Scuse  me  Lily. 
If  you  could  see  your  back,  you'd  'scuse  worse  than 
that." 

"  Feelin'  ull  do  fer  me,"  said  Peaches.     " I  live  wid  it." 

"Honest  kid,  I'm  scared  to  touch  you,"  he  wavered. 

"Aw  g'wan!"  said  Peaches.  "I  ain't  goin'  screechin' 
even  if  you  hurt  awful,  an'  you  touch  like  a  sparrer  lookin' 
for  crumbs.  Mickey,  can  we  put  out  a  few?" 

"For  the  sparrows?  Sure!"  cried  Mickey.  "They're 
the  ones  that  God  sees  especial  when  they  fall.  Sure!  Put 
out  some  in  a  minute.  Still  now!" 

Mickey  poured  on  ointment,  then  began  softly  rubbing 
it  into  the  dreadful  back.  His  face  was  drawn  with 
anxiety  and  filled  with  horror.  He  was  afraid,  but  the 
nurse  said  this  he  should  do,  while  Mickey's  first  lesson 
had  been  implicit  obedience.  So  he  rubbed  gently  as  he 
was  fearful;  when  Peaches  made  no  complaint,  a  little 
stronger,  and  a  little  stronger,  until  he  was  tired.  Then  he 
covered  her,  telling  her  to  lie  on  it,  and  see  how  it  felt. 
Peaches  looked  at  him  with  wondering  eyes. 

"Mickey,"  she  said,  "nothin'  in  all  my  life  ever  felt  like 
that,  an'  the  nice  cool  washin*  you  do.  Mickey-lovest, 


S.  O.  S.  65 

nex*  time  I  act  mean  'bout  what  you  want  to  do  to  me,  slap 
me  good,  an'  hold  me,  an'  go  on  an'  do  it!" 

"Now  nix  on  the  beating,"  said  Mickey.  "I  never  had 
any  from  my  mother;  but  the  kids  who  lost  sales  to  me 
took  my  nickels,  and  give  me  plenty.  You  ought  to 
know,  Lily,  that  I'm  trying  hard  as  I  can  to  make  yoa 
feel  good;  and  to  take  care  of  you.  What  I  want  to  do,  I 
think  will  make  you  better,  so  I'm  just  nachally  going  to  do 
it,  'cause  you're  mine,  and  you  got  to  do  what  I  say.  But  T 
won't  say  anything  that'll  hurt  you  and  make  you  worse.. 
If  you  must  take  time  to  think  new  things  over,  I  can  wait;, 
but  I  can't  hit  you  Lily,  you're  too  little,  too  sick,  and  I 
like  you  too  well.  I  wish  you'd  be  a  lady!  I  wish  you 
wouldn't  ever  be  bad  again!" 

"Hoh  I  feel  so  good!"  Peaches  stretched  like  a  kitten.. 
"Mickey,  bet  I  can  walk  'fore  long  if  you  do  that  often  I 
Mickey,  I  just  love  you,  an'  love  you.  Mickey,  say  that  at 
the  door  over  again." 

"What?"  queried  Mickey. 

"'Onc't  a  little  kid  named  Lily,"'  prompted  Peaches. 

Mickey  laughed  and  obeyed. 

Neatly  he  put  away  all  that  had  been  supplied  him;  be- 
fore lighting  the  burner  he  gave  Lily  a  drink  of  milk  and 
tried  arranging  both  pillows  to  prop  her  up  as  he  had  been 
shown.  When  the  water  boiled  he  dropped  in  two  bouil- 
lon cubes  the  nurse  had  given  him,  and  set  out  some  crack- 
ers he  had  bought.  He  put  the  milk  in  two  cups,  and  when 
he  cut  the  bread,  he  carefully  collected  every  crumb,  put- 
ting it  on  the  sill  in  the  hope  that  a  bird  might  come.  The 
thieving  sparrows,  used  to  watching  windows  and  stealing; 


66  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

from  stores  set  out  to  cool,  were  soon  there.  Peaches,  to 
whom  anything  with  feathers  was  a  bird,  was  filled  with 
joy.  The  odour  of  the  broth  was  delicious.  Mickey 
danced,  turned  handsprings,  and  made  the  funniest  re- 
marks. Then  he  fixed  the  bowl  on  a  paper,  broke  the 
crackers  in  her  broth,  growing  unspeakably  happy  at  her 
delight  as  she  tasted  it. 

"  Every  Saturday  you  get  a  box  of  that  from  the  Nurse 
Lady,"  he  boasted.  "Pretty  soon  you'll  be  so  fat  I  can't 
carry  you  and  so  well  you  can  have  supper  ready  when  I 

come,  then  we  can "  Mickey  stopped  short.  He  had 

started  to  say,  "go  to  the  parks,"  but  if  other  ladies  were 
like  the  first  one  he  had  talked  with,  and  if,  as  she  said,  the 
law  would  not  let  him  keep  Peaches,  he  had  better  not  try 
to  take  her  where  people  would  see  her. 

"Can  what?"  asked  Peaches. 

"Have  the  most  fun!"  explained  Mickey.  "We  can  sit 
in  the  window  to  see  the  sky  and  birds;  you  can  have  the 
shears  and  cut  pictures  from  the  papers  I'll  bring  you, 
while  I'll  read  all  my  story  books  to  you.  I  got  three  that 
She  gave  me  for  Christmas  presents,  so  I  could  learn  to 
read  them " 

"Mickey  could  I  ever  learn  to  read  them?" 

"  Sure ! "  cried  Mickey.  "  Surest  thing  you  know !  You 
ire  awful  smart,  Lily.  You  can  learn  in  no  time,  and  then 
you  can  read  while  I'm  gone,  so  it  won't  seem  long.  I'll 
teach  you.  Mother  taught  me.  I  can  read  the  papers  I 
sell.  Honest  I  can.  I  often  pick  up  torn  ones  I  can  bring 
to  you.  It's  lots  of  fun  to  know  what's  going  on.  I  sell 
many  more  by  being  able  to  tell  what's  in  them  than  kid* 


S.  O.  S.  67 

who  can't  read.  I  look  all  over  the  front  page  and  make 
up  a  spiel  on  the  cars.  I  always  fold  my  papers  neat  and 
keep  them  clean.  To-day  it  was  like  this:  'Here's  your 
nice,  clean,  morning  paper!  Sterilized!  Deodorized' 
Vulcanized!'" 

"Mickey  what  does  that  mean?"  asked  Peaches. 

"Now  you  see  how  it  comes  in ! "  said  Mickey.  "  If  you 
could  read  the  papers,  you'd  know.  'Sterilized,'  is  what 
they  do  to  the  milk  in  hot  weather  to  save  the  slum  kids. 
That's  us,  Lily.  'Deodorized,'  is  taking  the  bad  smell  out 
of  things.  'Vulcanized,'  is  something  they  do  to  stiffen 
things.  I  guess  it's  what  your  back  needs." 

"Is  all  them  things  done  to  the  papers?"  asked  Peaches. 

"Well,  not  all  of  them,"  laughed  Mickey,  "but  they  are 
starting  in  on  some  of  them,  and  all  would  be  a  good  thing. 
The  other  kids  who  can't  read  don't  know  those  words,  so 
I  study  them  out  and  use  them;  it  catches  the  crowd  for 
they  laugh,  and  then  pay  me  for  making  them.  See? 
This  world  down  on  the  streets  is  in  such  a  mix  a  laugh  is 
the  scarcest  thing  there  is ;  so  they  pay  for  it.  No  grouchy, 
sad-cat-working-on-your-sympathy  kid  sells  many.  I  can 
beat  one  with  a  laugh  every  inning." 

"What's  'inning,'  Mickey?"  came  the  next  question. 

"Playin'  a  side  at  a  ball  game.     Now  Ty  Cobb— 

"Go  on  with  what  you  say  about  the  papers,"  inter- 
rupted Peaches. 

"All  right!"  said  Mickey.  '"Here's  your  nice,  clean 
morning  paper!  Sterilized!  Deodorized!  Vulcanized! 
I  like  to  sell  them.  You  like  to  buy  them!  Sometimes  I 
sell  them!  Sometimes  I  don't !  Latest  war  news!  Japan 


68  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

takes  England!  England  takes  France!  France  takes 
Germany!  Germany  takes  Belgium!  Belgium  takes  the 
cake!  Here's  your  paper!  Nice  clean  paper!  Rush  this 
way!  Change  your  change  for  a  paper!  Yes,  I  like  to 

sell  them '  and  on  and  on  that  way  all  day,  'til  they're 

gone  and  every  one  I  pick  up  and  smooth  out  is  gone,  and 
if  they're  torn  and  dirty,  I  carry  them  back  on  the  cars 
and  sell  them  for  pennies  to  the  poor  folks  walking 
home." 

"Mickey,  will  we  be  slum  kids  always?"  she  asked. 

"Not  on  your  tin  type!"  cried  Mickey. 

"If  this  is  slum  kids,  I  like  it!"  protested  Peaches. 

"Well,  Sunrise  Alley  ain't  so  slummy  as  where  you  was, 
Lily,"  explained  the  boy. 

"This  is  grand,"  said  Peaches.  "Fine  an'  grand!  No 
lady  needn't  have  better!" 

"She  wouldn't  say  so,"  said  Mickey.  "But  Lily,  you 
got  something  most  of  the  millyingaire  ladies  hasn't." 

"What  Mickey?"  she  asked  interestedly. 

"One  man  all  to  yourself,  who  will  do  what  you  want,  if 
you  ask  pretty,  and  he  ain't  going  to  drag  you  'round  and 
make  you  do  things  you  don't  like  to,  and  hit  you,  and 
swear  at  you,  and  get  drunk.  Gee,  I  bet  the  worst  you 
ever  had  didn't  hurt  more  than  I've  seen  some  of  the  swell 
dames  hurt  sometimes.  It'd  make  you  sick  Lily." 

"I  guess  'at  it  would,"  said  the  girl,  "'cause  granny  told 
me  the  same  thing.  Lots  of  times  she  said  'at  she  couldn't 
see  so  much  in  bein'  rich  if  you  had  to  be  treated  like  she 
saw  rich  ladies.  She  said  all  they  got  out  of  it  was  nice 
dresses  an'  struttin*  when  their  men  wasn't  'round;  nelse 


S.  O.  S.  69 

the  money  was  theirn,  an'  nen  they  made  the  men  pay.. 
She  said  it  was  'bout  half  and  half." 

"So  'tis!"  cried  Mickey.  "Tell  you  Lily,  don't  let's 
ever  be  rich!  Let's  just  have  enough." 

"Mickey,  what  is  'enough?'"  asked  Peaches. 

"Why  plenty,  but  not  too  much!"  explained  Mickey 
judicially.  "Not  enough  to  fight  over!  Just  enough  to 
be  comfortable." 

"Mickey.,  I'm  comf'rable  as  nangel  now." 

"Gee,  I'm  glad,  Lily,"  said  Mickey  in  deep  satisfaction. 
"Maybe  He  heard  my  S.  O.  S.  after  all,  and  you  just  being 
comfortable  is  the  answer." 


CHAPTER  IV 
"BEARER  OF  MORNING" 

OUGLAS,"  called  Leslie  over  the  telephone,  "I 
have  developed  nerves." 
"Why?"  inquired  he. 

"Dad  has  just  come  in  with  a  pair  of  waist-high  boots, 
and  a  scalping  knife,  I  think,"  answered  Leslie.  "Are  you 
going  to  bring  a  blanket  and  a  war  bonnet?" 

"The  blanket,  I  can;  the  bonnet,  I  might,"  said  Douglas. 

"How  early  will  you  be  ready?"  she  asked. 

"Whenever  you  say,"  he  replied. 

"  Five ? "  she  queried. 

"Very  well!"  he  answered.  "And  Leslie,  I  would  sug- 
gest a  sweater,  short  stout  skirts,  and  heavy  gloves.  Do 
you  know  if  you  are  susceptible  to  poison  vines?" 

"I  have  handled  anything  wild  as  I  pleased  all  my  life," 
she  said.  "I  am  sure  there  is  no  danger  from  that  source; 
but  Douglas,  did  you  ever  hear  of,  or  see,  a  massasauga?" 

"You  are  perfectly  safe  on  that  score,"  he  said.  "I  am 
going  along  especially  to  take  care  of  you." 

"All  right,  then  I  won't  be  afraid  of  snakes,"  she 
said. 

"I  have  waders,  too,"  he  said,  "and  I'm  going  into  the 
swamp  with  you.  Wherever  you  wish  to  go,  I  will  pre- 
cede you  and  test  the  footing." 

70 


"BEARER  OF  MORNING"  71 

"Very  well!  I  have  lingered  on  the  borders  long  enough. 
To-morrow  will  be  my  initiation.  By  night  I'll  have 
learned  the  state  of  my  artistic  ability  with  natural  re- 
sources, and  I'll  know  whether  the  heart  of  the  swamp  is 
the  loveliest  sight  I  ever  have  seen,  and  I  will  have  proved 
how  I  'line  up'  with  a  squaw-woman." 

"Leslie,  I'm  now  reading  a  most  interesting  human  doc- 
ument," said  Douglas,  "and  in  it  I  have  reached  the  place 
where  Indians  in  the  heart  of  terrific  winter  killed  and 
heaped  up  a  pile  of  deer  in  early  day  in  Minnesota,  then 
went  to  camp  rejoicing,  while  their  squaws  were  left  to  walk 
twenty-eight  miles  and  each  carry  back  on  her  shoulder  a 
deer  frozen  stiff.  Leslie,  you  don't  line  up!  You  are  not 
expected  to." 

"Do  you  believe  that,  Douglas?"  asked  the  girl. 

"It's  history  dear,  not  fiction,"  he  answered. 

"Douglas!"  she  warned. 

"Leslie,  I  beg  your  pardon!  That  was  a  slip!"  cried 
he. 

"Oh!  "she  breathed. 

"Leslie,  will  you  do  something  for  me?"  he  ques- 
tioned. 

"What?  "she  retorted. 

"Listen  with  one  ear,  stop  the  other,  and  tell  me  what 
you  hear,"  he  ordered. 

"Yes,"  she  said. 

"Did  you  hear,  Leslie?"  he  asked  anxiously. 

"I.  heard  something,  I  don't  know  what,"  she  an- 
swered. 

"Can  you  describe  it,  Leslie?" 


72  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Just  a  rushing,  beating  sound!     What  i$  it  Douglas?" 

"My  heart,  Leslie,  sending  to  you  each  throbbing 
stroke  of  my  manhood  pouring  out  its  love  for  you." 

"Oh-h-h!"  cried  the  astonished  girl. 

"Will  you  listen  again,  Leslie?"  begged  the  man. 

"'No!"  she  said. 

*'You  don't  want  to  hear  what  my  heart  has  to  say  to 
you?"  he  asked. 

"Not  over  a  wire!     Not  so  far  away!"  she  panted. 

"Then  I'll  shorten  the  distance.     I'm  coming,  Leslie!" 

"What  shall  I  do?"  she  gasped.  She  stared  around 
her,  trying  to  decide  whether  she  should  follow  her  im- 
pulse to  hide,  when  her  father  entered  the  room. 

"Daddy,"  she  cried,  "if  you  want  to  be  nice  to  me,  go 
away  a  little  while.     Go  somewhere  a  few  minutes  and 
.stay  until  I  call  you." 
/'Leslie,  what's  the  matter?"  he  asked. 

"Tve  been  talking  to  Douglas,  and  Daddy,  he's  coming 
like  a  charging  Highland  trooper.  Daddy,  I  heard  him 
drop  the  receiver  and  start.  Please,  please  go  away  a 
minute.  Even  the  dearest  father  in  the  world  can't  do 
anything  now!  We  must  settle  this  ourselves." 

"I'm  not  to  be  allowed  a  word?"  he  protested. 

*'  Daddy,  you've  had  two  years !  If  you  know  anything 
to  say  against  Douglas  and  haven't  said  it  in  all  that  time, 
•why  should  you  begin  now?  You  couldn't  help  knowing! 
Daddy,  do  go!  There  he  is!  I  hear  him!" 

Mr.  Winton  took  his  daughter  in  his  arms,  kissed  her 
tenderly,  and  left  the  room.  A  second  later  Douglas 
Bruce  entered.  Rushing  to  Leslie  he  caught  her  to  his 


"BEARER  OF  MORNING"  73 

breast  roughly,  while  with  a  strong  hand  he  pressed  her 
ear  against  his  heart. 

"Now  you  listen,  my  girl!"  he  cried.  "You  listen  at 
close  range." 

Leslie  remained  quiet  a  long  second.  Then  she  lifted 
her  face,  adorable,  misty  eyed  and  tenderly  smiling. 

"Douglas,  I  never  listened  to  £  heart  before!  How  do  I 
know  what  it  is  saying?  I  can't  tell  whether  it  is  talking 
about  me  or  protesting  against  the  way  you've  been  rush- 
ing around!" 

"No  levity,  my  lady,"  he  said  grimly.  "This  is  serious 
business.  You  listen  while  I  interpret.  I  love  you, 
Leslie!  Every  beat,  every  stroke,  love  for  you.  I  claim 
you!  My  mate!  My  wife!  I  want  you!" 

He  held  her  from  him,  looking  into  her  eyes. 

"Now  Leslie,  the  answer!"  he  cried.  "May  I  listen  to 
it  or  will  you  tell  me?  Is  there  any  answer?  What  is 
your  heart  saying?  May  I  hear  or  will  you  tell  me?" 

"I  want  to  tell  you!"  said  the  girl.  "I  love  you, 
Douglas!  Every  beat,  every  stroke,  love  for  you." 

Early  the  next  morning  they  inspected  their  equipment 
carefully,  then  drove  north  to  the  tamarack  swamp,  where 
they  arranged  that  Leslie  and  Douglas  were  to  hunt  mate- 
rial, while  Mr.  Winton  and  the  driver  went  to  the  nearest 
Indian  settlement  to  find  the  squaw  who  had  made  the 
other  basket,  and  bring  her  to  the  swamp. 

If  you  have  experienced  the  same  emotions  you  will 
know  how  Douglas  and  Leslie  felt  when  hand  in  hand  they 
entered  the  swamp  on  a  perfect  morning  in  late  May.  If 
you  have  not,  mere  words  are  inadequate. 


74  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Through  fern  and  brake  head  high,  through  sumac,  wil- 
low, elder,  buttonbush,  gold-yellow  and  blood-red  osiers, 
past  northern  holly,  over  spongy  moss  carpet  of  palest 
silvery  green  up-piled  for  ages,  over  red-veined  pitcher 
plants  spilling  their  fullness,  among  scraggy,  odorous 
tamaracks,  beneath  which  cranberries  and  rosemary  were 
blooming;  through  ethereal  pale  mists  of  dawn,  in  their 
ears  lark  songs  of  morning  from  the  fields,  hermit  thrushes 
in  the  swamp,  bell  birds  tolling  molten  notes,  in  a  minor 
strain  a  swelling  chorus  of  sparrows,  titmice,  warblers, 
vireos,  went  two  strong,  healthy  young  people  newly 
promised  for  "better  or  worse."  They  could  only 
look,  stammer,  flush,  and  utter  broken  exclamations, 
all  about  "better."  They  could  not  remotely  con- 
ceive that  life  might  serve  them  the  cruel  trick  of 
"worse." 

Leslie  sank  to  her  knees.  Douglas  lifted  her  up,  set  her 
on  the  firmest  location  he  could  see,  adoring  her  with 
his  eyes  and  reverent  touch.  Since  that  first  rough  grasp 
as  he  drew  her  to  him,  Leslie  had  felt  positively  fragile  in 
his  hands.  She  smiled  at  him  her  most  beautiful  smile 
when  wide-eyed  with  emotion. 

"Douglas,  why  just  now,  when  you've  waited  two 
years?"  she  asked. 

"Wanted  a  degree  of  success  to  offer,"  he  answered. 

Leslie  disdained  the  need  for  success. 

"Wanted  you  to  have  time  to  know  me  as  completely  as 
possible." 

Leslie  intimated  that  she  could  learn  faster. 

"Wanted  to  have  the  acknowledged  right  to  put  my 


"BEARER  OF  MORNING"  75 

body  between  yours  and  any  danger  this  swamp  might 
have  to  offer  to-day." 

"Exactly  what  I  thought!"  cried  she. 

"Wise  girl,"  commented  the  man. 

"Douglas,  I  must  hurry!"  said  Leslie.  "It  may  take 
a  long  time  to  find  the  flowers  I  want,  while  I've  no  idea 
what  I  shall  do  for  a  basket.  I  saw  osiers  yellow  and  red 
in  quantities,  but  where  are  the  orchids?" 

"We  must  make  our  way  farther  in  and  search,"  he  said. 

"Douglas,  listen!"  breathed  Leslie. 

"I  hear  exquisite  music,"  he  answered. 

"But  don't  you  recognize  it?"  she  cried. 

"It  does  seem  familiar,  but  I  am  not  sufficiently  schooled 
in  music " 

The  girl  began  softly  to  whistle. 

"By  Jove!"  cried  the  .man.     "What  is  that  Leslie?" 

"Di  Provenza,  from  Traviata,"  she  answered.  "But 
I  must  stop  listening  for  birds  Douglas,  when  I  can  scarcely 
watch  for  flowers  or  vines.  I  have  to  keep  all  the  time 
looking  to  make  sure  that  you  are  really  my  man." 

"And  I,  that  you  are  my  woman.  Leslie,  that  expres- 
sion and  this  location,  the  fact  that  you  are  in  competition 
with  a  squaw  and  the  Indian  talk  we  have  indulged  in 
lately,  all  conspire  to  remind  me  that  a  few  days  ago,  while 
I  was  still  a  'searcher'  myself,  I  read  a  poem  called  'Song 
of  the  Search'  that  was  the  biggest  thing  of  its  kind  that 
I  have  yet  found  in  our  language.  It  was  so  great  that 
I  reread  it  until  I  am  sure  I  can  do  it  justice.  Listen  my 
*  Bearer  of  Morning,'  my  '  Bringer  of  Song ' 

Douglas  stood  straight  as  the  tamaracks,  his  feet  sinking 


76  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

in  "the  little  moss,"  while  from  his  heart  he  quoted  Con- 
stance Skinner's  wonderful  poem: 

"'I  descend  through  the  forest  alone. 
Rose-flushed  are  the  willows,  stark  and  a-quiver, 
In  the  warm  sudden  grasp  of  Spring; 

Like  a  woman  when  her  lover  has  suddenly,  swiftly  taken  her. 
I  hear  the  secret  rustle  of  little  leaves, 
Waiting  to  be  born. 
The  air  is  a  wind  of  love 
From  the  wings  of  eagles  mating 

0  eagles,  my  sky  is  dark  with  your  wings! 
The  hills  and  the  waters  pity  me, 

The  pine-trees  reproach  me. 

The  little  moss  whispers  under  my  feet, 

"Son  of  Earth,  Brother, 

Why  comest  thou  hither  alone  ?" 

Oh,  the  wolf  has  his  mate  on  the  mountain 

Where  art  thou,  Spring-daughter? 

1  tremble  with  love  as  reeds  by  the  river, 
I  burn  as  the  dusk  in  the  red-tented  west, 
I  call  thee  aloud  as  the  deer  calls  the  doe, 
I  await  thee  as  hills  wait  the  morning, 

I  desire  thee  as  eagles  the  storm; 

I  yearn  to  thy  breast  as  night  to  the  sea, 

I  claim  thee  as  the  silence  claims  the  stars. 

O  Earth,  Earth,  great  Earth, 

Mate  of  God  and  mother  of  me, 

Say,  where  is  she,  the  Bearer  of  Morning, 

My  Bringer  of  Song? 

Love  in  me  waits  to  be  born, 

Where  is  She,  the  Woman?' 

"'Where  is  she,  the  Woman?1*     The  answer  is  'Here!' 
'Bearer  of  Morning/  'Bringer  of  Song,'  I  adore  you!" 
" Oh  Douglas,  how  beautiful ! "  cried  Leslie.     "  My  Man, 


"BEARER  OF  MORNING"  77 

can  we  think  of  anything  save  ourselves  to-day?  Can  we 
make  that  basket?" 

"It  would  be  a  bad  start  to  give  up  our  first  undertaking 
together,"  he  said. 

"Of  course!"  she  cried.  "We  must!  We  simply 
must  find  things.  Father  may  call  any  minute.  Let  go 
my  hand  and  follow  behind  me.  Keep  close,  Douglas!" 

"I  should  go  before  to  clear  the  way,"  he  suggested. 

"No,  I  may  miss  rare  flowers  if  you  do,"  she  objected. 

"Go  slowly,  so  I  can  watch  before  and  overhead." 

"Yes!"  she  answered.     "There!     There,  Douglas!" 

"Ah!     There  they  are!"  he  exulted. 

"But  I  can't  take  them!"  she  protested. 

"Only  a  few,  Leslie.  Look  before  you !  See  how  many 
there  are!"  he  said. 

"Douglas,  could  there  be  more  wonderful  flowers  than 
the  moccasins  and  slippers?"  she  asked. 

"Scarcely  more  wonderful;  there  might  be  more  delicate 
and  lovely!" 

"Farther!     Let  us  go  farther!"  she  urged. 

Her  cry  closed  the  man's  arms  around^her. 

Then  there  was  a  long  silence  during  which  they  stood 
on  the  edge  of  a  small  open  space  breathlessly  worshipping, 
but  it  was  the  Almighty  they  were  now  adoring.  Here 
the  moss  lay  in  a  flat  carpet,  tinted  deeper  green.  Water 
willow  rolled  its  ragged  reddish-tan  hoops,  with  swelling 
bloom  and  leaf  buds.  Overflowing  pitcher  plants  grew  in 
irregular  beds,  on  slender  stems,  lifting  high  their  flat 
buds.  But  scattered  in  groups  here  and  there,  sometimes 
with  massed  sim^ar  colours,  sometimes  in  clumps  and 


78  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

variegated  patches,  stood  the  rare,  early  fringed  orchis, 
some  almost  white,  others  pale  lavender  and  again  the 
deeper  colour  of  the  moccasins;  while  everywhere  on  stems, 
some  a  foot  high,  nodded  the  exquisite  lavender  and  white 
showy  orchis. 

"Count!"  he  commanded. 

Leslie  pointed  a  slender  finger  indicating  each  as  she 
spoke:  "One,  two,  three — thirty-two,  under  the  sweep  of 
your  arms,  Douglas!  And  more!  More  by  the  hundred! 
Surely  if  we  are  careful  not  to  kill  them,  the  Lord  won't 
mind  if  we  take  out  a  few  for  people  to  see,  will  He?" 

"He  must  have  made  them  to  be  seen! "  said  Douglas. 

"And  worshipped!"  cried  the  girl. 

"Douglas,     why     didn't     the     squaw ?"     asked 

Leslie. 

."Maybe  she  didn't  come  this  far,"  he  said.  "Perhaps 
she  knows  by  experience  that  these  are  too  fragile  to  re- 
move. You  may  not  be  able  to  handle  them,  Leslie." 

"I'm  going  to  try,"  she  said.  "But  first  I  must  make 
my  basket.  We'll  go  back  to  the  osiers  to  weave  it  and 
then  come  here  to  fill  it.  Oh  Douglas!  Did  you  ever  see 
such  flower  perfection  in  all  your  life  ? " 

"Only  in  books!  In  my  home  country  applied  botany 
is  a  part  of  every  man's  education.  I  never  have  seen 
ragged  or  fringed  orchids  growing  before.  I  have  read  of 
many  fruitless  searches  for  the  white  ones." 

'So  have  I.     They  seem  to  be  the  rarest.     Douglas, 
look  there!" 

There"  was  a  group  of  purple-lavender,  white-lipped 
bloom,  made  by  years  of  spreading  from  one  root,  until 


"BEARER  OF  MORNING"  79 

above  the  rank  moss  and  beneath  the  dark  tamarack 
branch  the  picture  appeared  inconceivably  delicate. 
"Yes!     The  most  exquisite  flowers  I  ever  have  seen!" 
"And  there  Douglas!"     She  pointed  to  another  group. 

"  Tust  the  shade  of  the  lavender  on  the  toe  of  the  moccasin 
a  \ 

— and  in  a  great  ragged  mass !     Would  any  one  believe  it  ?" 

"Not  without  seeing  it,"  he  said  emphatically. 

"And  there  Douglas!  Exactly  the  colour  of  the  moc- 
casins— see  that  cluster!  There  are  no  words  Douglas!" 

"Shall  you  go  farther?"  he  asked. 

"No,"  she  answered.  "I'm  going  back  to  weave  my 
basket.  There  is  nothing  to  surpass  the  orchids  in  rarity 
and  wondrous  beauty." 

"Good!"  he  cried.     "I'll  go  ahead  and  you  follow." 

So  they  returned  to  the  osiers.  Leslie  pondered  deeply 
a  few  seconds,  then  resolutely  putting  Douglas  aside, 
she  began  cutting  armloads  of  pale  yellow  osiers.  Finding 
a  suitable  place  to  work,  she  swiftly  and  deftly  selected 
perfect,  straight  evenly  coloured  ones,  cutting  them  the 
same  length,  then  binding  the  tip  ends  firmly  with  raffia 
she  had  brought  to  substitute  for  grass.  Then  with  fine 
slips  she  began  weaving,  gradually  spreading  the  twigs 
while  inwardly  giving  thanks  for  the  lessons  she  had  taken 
in  basketry.  At  last  she  held  up  a  big,  pointed,  yellow 
basket. 

"Ready!  "she  said. 

"Beautiful!"  cried  Douglas. 

Leslie  carefully  lined  the  basket  with  moss  in  which  the 
flowers  grew,  working  the  heads  between  the  open  spaces 
she  had  left.  She  bent  three  twigs,  dividing  her  basket 


80  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

top  in  exact  thirds.  One  of  these  she  filled  with  the  whit- 
est, one  with  stronger,  and  one  with  the  deepest  lavender, 
placing  the  tallest  plants  in  the  centre  so  that  the  out- 
side ones  would  show  completely.  Then  she  lifted  by 
the  root  exquisite  showy  orchis,  lavender-hooded,  white- 
lipped,  the  tiniest  plants  she  could  select  and  set  them 
around  the  edge.  She  bedded  the  moss-wrapped  roots 
in  the  basket  and  began  bordering  the  rim  and  entwining 
the  handle  with  a  delicate  vine.  She  looked  up  at  Doug- 
las, her  face  thrilled  with  triumph,  flushed  with  exertion, 
her  eyes  humid  with  feeling,  while  he  gazed  at  her  stirred 
to  the  depth  of  his  heart  with  sympathy  and  the  wonder  of 
possession. 

"Bearer  of  Morning,'  you  win!"  he  cried  triumphantly. 
"There  is  no  use  going  farther.  Let  me  carry  that  to  your 
father,  and  he  too  will  say  so." 

"I  have  a  reason  for  working  out  our  plan,"  she  said. 

"Yes?     May  I  know?"  he  asked. 

"Surely!"  she  answered.  "You  remember  what  you 
told  me  about  the  Minturns.  I  can't  live  in  a  city  and  not 
have  my  feelings  harrowed  every  day,  and  while  I'd  like  to 
change  everything  wrong,  I  know  I  can't  all  of  it,  so  what 
I  can't  cope  with  must  be  put  aside;  but  this  refuses,  it  is 
insistent.  When  you  really  think  of  it,  that  is  so  dreadful, 
Douglas.  If  they  once  felt  what  we  do  now,  could  it  all 
go?  There  must  be  something  left!  You  mention  him 
oftener  than  any  other  one  man,  so  you  must  admire  him 
deeply;  I  know  her  as  well  as  any  woman  I  meet  in  so- 
ciety, better  than  most;  I  had  thought  of  asking  them  to 
be  the  judges.  She  is  interested  in  music  and  art;  it 


"BEARER  OF  MORNING"  81 

would  please  her  and  be  perfectly  natural  for  me  to  ask 
her;  you  are  on  intimate  terms  with  him  from  your  offices 
being  opposite;  there  could  be  no  suspicion  of  any  ulterior 
motive  in  having  them.  I  don't  know  that  it  would 
accomplish  anything,  but  it  would  let  them  know,  to  begin 
with,  that  we  consider  them  friends;  so  it  would  be  natural 
for  them  to  come  with  us;  if  we  can't  manage  more  than 
that  to-day,  it  will  give  us  ground  to  try  again." 

"Splendid!"  he  said.  "A  splendid  plan!  It  would  let 
them  see  that  at  least  our  part  of  the  world  thinks  of  them 
together,  and  expects  them  to  be  friends.  Splendid!" 

"I  have  finished,"  said  Leslie. 

"I  quite  agree,"  answered  Douglas.  "No  one  could  do 
better.  That  is  the  ultimate  beauty  of  the  swamp  made 
manifest.  There  is  the  horn!  Your  father  is  waiting." 

A  surprise  was  also  waiting.  Mr.  Winton  had  not 
only  found  the  squaw  who  brought  the  first  basket,  but  he 
had  made  her  understand  so  thoroughly  what  was  wanted 
that  she  had  come  with  him,  while  at  his  suggestion  she  had 
replaced  the  moccasin  basket  as  exactly  as  she  could  and 
also  made  an  effort  at  decoration.  She  was  smiling  wood- 
enly  when  Leslie  and  Douglas  approached,  but  as  Leslie's 
father  glimpsed  and  cried  out  over  her  basket,  the  squaw 
frowned,  drawing  back. 

"Where  you  find  'em?"  she  demanded. 

"In  the  swamp!"    Leslie  nodded  backward. 

The  squaw  grunted  disapprovingly.  "Lowry  no  buy 
'em!  Sell  slipper!  Sell  moccasin!  No  sell  weed!" 

Leslie  looked  with  shining  eyes  at  her  father. 

"That  lies  with  Lowry,"  he  said.     'Til  drive  you  there 


82  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

and  bring  you  back,  and  you'll  have  the  ride  and  the  money 
for  your  basket.  That's  all  that  concerns  you.  We  won't 
come  here  to  make  any  more." 

The  squaw  smiled  again,  so  they  started  to  the  city. 
They  drove  straight  to  the  Winton  residence  for  the  slip- 
pers. While  Mr.  Winton  and  the  squaw  went  to  take  the 
baskets  to  Lowry's  and  leave  Douglas  at  his  office,  Leslie 
in  his  car  went  to  Mrs.  Minturn's. 

"Don't  think  I'm  crazy,"  laughed  Leslie,  as  Mrs.  Min- 
turn  came  down  to  meet  her.  "I  want  to  use  your  ex- 
quisite taste  and  art  instinct  a  few  minutes.  Please  do 
come  with  me.  We've  a  question  up.  You  know  the 
wonderful  stuff  the  Indians  bring  down  from  the  swamps 
to  sell  on  the  streets  and  to  the  florists  ? " 

"  Indeed  yes !  I  often  buy  of  them  in  the  spring.  I  love 
the  wild  white  violets  especially.  What  is  it  you  want?" 

"Why  you  see,"  said  Leslie,  looking  eagerly  at  Mrs. 
Minturn,  "you  see  there  are  three  flower  baskets  at 
Lowry's.  Douglas  Bruce  is  going  to  buy  me  the  one  I 
want  most  for  a  present,  to  celebrate  a  very  important 
occasion,  and  I  can't  tell  which  is  most  artistic.  I  want 
you  to  decide.  Your  judgment  is  so  unfailing.  Will  you 
come?  Only  a  little  spin!" 

"Leslie,  you  aren't  by  any  chance  asking  me  to  select 
your  betrothal  gift,  are  you?" 

Leslie's  face  was  rose-flushed  smiling  wonderment. 
She  had  hastily  slipped  off  her  swamp  costume.  Joy  that 
seemed  as  if  it  must  be  imperishable  shone  on  her  brightly 
illumined  face.  With  tightly  closed,  smile-curved  lips  she 
vigorously  nodded.  The  elder  woman  bent  to  kiss  her. 


"BEARER  OF  MORNING"  83 

"Of  course  I'll  come!"  she  laughed.  "I  feel  thrilled, 
and  flattered.  And  I  congratulate  you  sincerely.  Bruce 
is  a  fine  man.  He'll  make  a  big  fortune  soon." 

"Oh  I  hope  not!"  said  Leslie. 

"Are  you  crazy?"  demanded  Mrs.  Minturn.  "You 
said  you  didn't  want  me  to  think  you  so! " 

"You  see,"  said  Leslie,  "Mr.  Bruce  has  a  living  income; 
so  have  I,  from  my  mother.  Fortunes  seem  to  me  to 
work  more  trouble  than  they  do  good.  I  believe  poor 
folks  are  happiest,  they  get  most  out  of  life,  and  after  all 
what  gives  deep,  heart-felt  joy,  is  the  thing  to  live  for, 
isn't  it?  But  we  must  hurry.  Mr.  Lowry  didn't  promise 
to  hold  the  flowers  long." 

"I'll  be  ready  in  a  minute,  but  I  see  where  Douglas 
Bruce  is  giving  you  wrong  ideas,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn. 
"He  needs  a  good  talking  to.  Money  is  the  only  thing 
worth  while,  and  the  comfort  and  the  pleasure  it  brings. 
Without  it  you  are  crippled,  handicapped,  a  slave  crawling 
while  others  step  over  you.  I'll  convince  him!  Back  in 
a  minute." 

When  Mrs.  Minturn  returned  she  was  in  a  delightful 
mood,  her  face  eager,  her  dress  beautiful.  Leslie  won- 
dered if  this  woman  ever  had  known  a  care,  then  remem- 
bered that  not  long  before  she  had  lost  a  little  daughter. 
Leslie  explained  as  they  went  swiftly  through  the  streets. 

"You  won't  mind  waiting  only  a  second  until  I  run  up 
to  Mr.  Bruce's  offices?"  she  asked. 

He  was  ready,  so  together  they  stopped  at  Mr.  Min- 
turn's  door.  Douglas  whispered:  "Watch  the  office  boy. 
He  is  Minturn's  Little  Brother  I  told  you  about  " 


•84  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Leslie  nodded  and  entered  gaily. 

"Please  ask  Mr.  Minturn  if  he  will  see  Miss  Winton  and 
Mr.  Douglas  Bruce  a  minuter"  she  said. 

An  alert,  bright-faced  lad  bowed  politely,  laid  aside  a 
book  and  entered  the  inner  office. 

"Now  let  me!"  said  Leslie.  "Good  May,  Mr.  Min- 
turn!" she  cried.  "Positively  enchanting!  Take  that 
forbidding  look  off  your  face.  Come  for  a  few  minutes 
Maying!  It  will  do  you  much  good,  and  me  more.  All 
my  friends  are  pleasuring  me  to-day.  So  I  want  as  good  a 
friend  of  Mr.  Bruce  as  you,  to  be  in  something  we  have 
planned.  You  just  must!" 

"Has  something  delightful  happened?"  asked  Mr.  Min- 
turn, retaining  the  hand  Leslie  offered  him  as  he  turned  to 
Douglas  Bruce. 

"You  must  ask  Miss  Winton,"  he  said. 

Mr.  Minturn's  eyes  questioned  her  sparkling  face,  while 
again  with  closed  lips  she  nodded.  "My  most  earnest 
congratulations  to  each  of  you.  May  life  grant  you  even 
more  than  you  hope  for,  and  from  your  faces,  that  is  no 
small  wish  to  make  for  you.  Surely  I'll  come!  What  is 
it  you  have  planned?" 

"Something  lovely!"  said  Leslie.  "At  Lowry's  are 
three  flower  baskets  that  are  rather  bewildering.  I  am 
to  have  one  for  my  betrothal  gift,  but  I  can't  decide. 
I  appealed  to  Mrs.  Minturn  to  help  me,  and  she  agreed; 
she  is  waiting  below.  Mr.  Bruce  named  you  for  him;  so 
you  two  and  Mr.  Lowry  are  to  choose  the  most  artistic 
basket  for  me,  then  if  I  don't  agree,  I  needn't  take  it,  but 
I  want  to  see  what  you  think.  You'll  come  of  course?" 


"BEARER  OF  MORNING"  85 

Mr.  Minturn's  face  darkened  at  the  mention  of  his  wife, 
while  he  hesitated  and  looked  penetratingly  at  Leslie. 
She  was  guileless,  charming,  and  eager. 

"Very  well,"  Mr.  Minturn  said  gravely.  "I'm  sur- 
prised, but  also  pleased.  Beautiful  young  ladies  have  not 
appealed  to  me  so  often  of  late  that  I  can  afford  to  miss  the 
chance  of  humouring  the  most  charming  of  her  sex." 

"  How  lovely ! "  laughed  Leslie.  "  Douglas,  did  you  ever 
know  Mr.  Minturn  could  flatter  like  that  ?  It's  most  en- 
joyable !  I  shall  insist  on  more  of  it,  at  every  opportunity ! 
Really,  Mr.  Minturn,  society  has  missed  you  of  late,  and 
it  is  our  loss.  We  need  men  who  are  worth  while." 

"Now  it  is  you  who  flatter,"  smiled  Mr.  Minturn. 

"See  my  captive!"  cried  Leslie,  as  she  emerged  from  the 
building  and  crossed  the  walk  to  the  car.  "Mr.  Bruce  and 
Mr.  Minturn  are  great  friends,  so  as  we  passed  his  door  we 
brought  him  along  by  force." 

"It  certainly  would  require  that  to  bring  him  anywhere 
in  my  company,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn  coldly. 

The  shock  of  the  cruelty  of  the  remark  closed  Douglas' 
lips,  but  it  was  Leslie's  day  to  bubble,  so  she  resolutely  set 
herself  to  heal  and  cover  the  hurt. 

"I  think  business  is  a  perfect  bugbear,"  she  said  as  she 
entered  the  car.  "I'm  going  to  have  a  pre-nuptial  agree- 
ment as  to  just  how  far  work  may  trespass  on  Douglas* 
time,  and  how  much  belongs  to  me.  I  think  it  can  be  ar- 
ranged. Daddy  and  I  always  have  had  lovely  times  to- 
gether, and  I  would  call  him  successful.  Wouldn't 


you?' 


'A  fine  business  man!'  said  Mr   Minturn  heartily: 


86  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"You  could  have  had  much  greater  advantages  if  he  had 
made  more  money,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"The  advantage  of  more  money — yes,"  retorted  Leslie 
quickly,  "but  would  the  money  have  been  of  more  advan- 
tage to  me  than  the  benefits  of  his  society  and  his  personal 
hand  in  my  rearing?  I  think  not!  I  prefer  my  Daddy!" 

"When  you  take  your  place  in  society,  as  the  mistress  of 
a  home,  you  will  find  that  millions  will  not  be  too  much," 
said  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"If  I  had  millions,  I'd  give  most  of  them  away,  and 
just  go  on  living  about  as  I  do  now  with  Daddy,"  said 
Leslie. 

"Leslie,  where  did  you  get  bitten  with  this  awful,  com- 
mon— what  kind  of  an  idea  shall  I  call  it?  You  haven't 
imbibed  socialistic  tendencies  have  you?" 

"Haven't  a  smattering  of  what  they  mean!"  laughed 
Leslie.  "The  'istics'  scare  me  completely.  Just  social 
ideas  are  all  I  have;  thinking  home  better  than  any  other 
place  on  earth,  the  way  you  can  afford  to  have  it.  Merely 
being  human,  kind  and  interested  in  what  my  men  are 
doing  and  enjoying,  and  helping  any  one  who  crosses  my 
path  and  seems  to  need  me.  Oh,  I  get  such  joy,  such  de- 
licious joy  from  life." 

"If  I  were  undertaking  wild-eyed  reform,  I'd  sell  my 
car  and  walk,  and  do  settlement  work,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn 
scornfully. 

Then  Leslie  surprised  all  of  them.  She  leaned  forward, 
looked  beamingly  into  the  elder  woman's  face  and  cried 
enthusiastically:  "I  am  positive  you'd  be  stronger,  and 
much  happier  if  you  would !  You  know  there  is  no  greater 


"BEARER  OF  MORNING"  87 

fun  than  going  to  the  end  of  the  car  line  and  then  walking 
miles  into  the  country,  especially  now  in  bloom-time.  You 
see  sights  no  painter  ever  transferred  even  a  good  imita- 
tion of  to  canvas;  you  hear  music — I  wish  every  music 
lover  with  your  trained  ear  could  have  spent  an  hour  in 
that  swamp  this  morning.  You'd  soon  know  where  Verdi 
and  Strauss  found  some  of  their  loveliest  themes,  and 
where  Beethoven  got  the  bird  notes  for  the  brook  scene  of 
the  Pastoral  Symphony.  Think  how  interested  you'd  be 
in  a  yellow  and  black  bird  singing  the  Spinning  Song  from 
Martha,  while  you  couldn't  accuse  the  bird  of  having 
stolen  it  from  Flotow,  could  you?  Surely  the  bird  holds 
right  of  priority ! " 

"If  you  weren't  a  little  fool  and  talking  purposely  to 
irritate  me,  you'd  almost  cause  me  to  ask  if  you  seriously 
mean  that?"  said  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"Why,"  laughed  Leslie,  determined  not  to  become  pro- 
voked on  this  her  great  day,  "that  is  a  matter  you  can  test 
for  yourself.  If  you  haven't  a  score  of  Martha,  get  one  and 
I'll  take  you  where  you  can  hear  a  bird  sing  that  strain, 
then  you  may  judge  for  yourself." 

"  I  don't  believe  it!  "  said  Mrs.  Minturn  tersely,  "but  if 
it  were  true,  that  would  be  the  most  wonderful  experience 
I  ever  had  in  my  life." 

"And  it  would  cost  you  only  ten  cents,"  scored  Leslie. 
"You  needn't  ride  beyond  the  end  of  the  car  line  for  that, 
while  a  woman  who  can  dance  all  night  surely  could  walk 
far  enough,  to  reach  any  old  orchard.  That's  what  I  am 
trying  to  tell  you.  Money  in  large  quantities  isn't  neces- 
sary to  provide  the  most  interesting  things  in  the  world, 


88  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

while  millions  don't  bring  happiness.  I  can  find  more  in 
what  you  would  class  almost  poverty." 

"Why  don't  you  try  it?"  suggested  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"But  I  have!"  said  Leslie.  "And  I  enjoy  it!  I  could 
go  with  a  man  I  love  as  I  do  Daddy,  and  make  a  home,  and 
get  joy  I  never  have  found  in  society,  from  just  what  we 
two  could  do  with  our  own  hands  in  the  woods.  I  don't 
like  a  city.  If  Daddy's  business  didn't  keep  him  here,  I 
would  be  in  the  country  this  minute.  Look  at  us  poor 
souls  trying  to  find  pleasure  in  a  basket  from  the  swamp, 
when  we  might  have  the  whole  swamp.  I'd  be  happy  to 
live  at  its  door.  Now  try  a  basket  full  of  it.  There  are 
three.  You  are  to  examine  each  of  them  carefully,  then 
write  on  a  slip  of  paper  which  you  think  the  most  artistic. 
You  are  not  to  say  things  that  will  influence  each  other's 
decisions,  or  Mr.  Lowry's.  I  want  a  straight  opinion  from 
each  of  you." 

They  entered  the  florist's,  and  on  a  glass  table  faced  the 
orchids,  the  slippers,  the  fringed  basket,  and  the  moc- 
casins. Mr.  Winton  and  the  squaw  were  waiting,  while 
the  florist  was  smiling  in  gratification,  but  the  Minturns 
went  to  the  flowers  without  a  word.  They  simply  stood 
and  looked.  Each  of  the  baskets  was  in  perfect  condition. 
The  flowers  were  as  fresh  as  at  home  in  the  swamp.  Each 
was  a  thing  of  wondrous  beauty.  Each  deserved  the 
mute  tribute  it  was  exacting.  Mr.  Minturn  studied  them 
with  gradually  darkening  face.  Mrs.  Minturn  repeatedly 
opened  her  lips  as  if  she  would  speak,  but  did  not.  She 
stepped  closer  and  gently  turned  the  flowers  and  lightly 
touched  the  petals. 


"BEARER  OF  MORNING"  89 

"Beautiful!"  she  said  at  last.     "Beautiful!" 

Another  long  silence. 

Then:  "Honestly  Leslie,  did  you  hear  a  bird  sing  that 
strain  from  Martha  ?  " 

"Yes!"  said  Leslie,  "I  did.  And  if  you  will  go  with  me 
to  the  swamp  where  those  flowers  came  from,  you  shall 
hear  one  sing  a  strain  that  will  instantly  remind  you  of  the 
opening  chorus,  while  another  renders  Di  Provenza  II  Mar 
from  Traviata."  • 

The  lady  turned  again  to  the  flowers.  She  was  thinking 
something  deep  and  absorbing,  but  no  one  could  have 
guessed  exactly  what  it  might  be.  Finally:  "I  have  de- 
cided," she  said.  "Shall  we  number  these  one,  two,  and 
three,  and  so  indicate  them?" 

"Yes,"  said  Leslie  a  little  breathlessly. 

"Put  your  initials  to  the  slips  and  I'll  read  them," 
offered  Douglas.  Then  he  smilingly  read  aloud:  "Mr. 
Lowry,  one.  Mrs.  Minturn,  two.  Mr.  Minturn, 
three!" 

"I  cast  the  deciding  vote,"  cried  Leslie.     "One!" 

The  squaw  seemed  to  think  of  a  war-whoop,  but  de- 
cided against  it. 

"Now  be  good  enough  to  state  your  reasons,"  said  Mr. 
Winton.  "Why  do  you  prefer  the  slipper  basket,  Mr, 
Lowry?" 

"It  satisfies  my  sense  of  the  artistic." 

"Why  the  fringed  basket,  Mrs.  Minturn?" 

"Because  it  contains  daintier,  more  wonderful  flowers 
than  the  others,  and  is  by  far  the  most  pleasing  pro- 
duction." 


90  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Now  Minturn,  your  turn.  Why  do  you  like  the  moc- 
casin basket?" 

"It  makes  the  deepest  appeal  to  me,"  he  answered. 

"  But  why  ? "  persisted  Mr.  Winton. 

"If  you  will  have  it — the  moccasins  are  the  colour  I  once 
loved  on  the  face  of  my  little  daughter." 

"Now  Leslie!"  said  Mr.  Winton  hurriedly  as  he  noted 
Mrs.  Minturn's  displeased  look. 

"Must  I  tell?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,"  said  her  father. 

"Douglas  selected  it  for  me,  so  I  like  it  best." 

"But  Leslie!"  cried  Douglas,  "there  were  only  two 
baskets  when  I  favoured  that.  Had  the  fringed  orchids 
been  here  then,  I  most  certainly  should  have  chosen  them. 
I  think  yours  far  the  most  exquisite!  I  claim  it  now.  Will 
you  give  it  to  me  ? " 

"Surely!     I'd  love  to,"  laughed  the  girl. 

"You  have  done  your  most  exquisite  work  on  the  fringed 
basket,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn  to  the  squaw. 

"No  make!"  said  she  promptly,  pointing  to  Leslie. 

"Leslie  Winton,  did  you  go  to  the  swamp  to  make  that 
basket?"  demanded _Mrs.  Minturn. 

"Yes,"  answered  Leslie. 

"Did  you  make  all  of  them?" 

"Only  that  one,"  replied  Leslie. 

"Why?"  marvelled  the  lady. 

"To  see  if  I  could  go  to  the  tamarack  swamp  and  bring 
from  it  with  the  same  tools  and  material,  a  more  artistic 
production  than  an  Indian  woman." 

"Well,  you  have!"  conceded  Mrs.  Minturn. 


"BEARER  OF  MORNING"  91 

"The  majority  is  against  me,"  said  Leslie. 

"Majorities  mean  masses,  and  masses  are  notoriously 
insane!"  said  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"But  this  is  a  small,  select  majority,"  said  Leslie. 

"Craziest  of  all,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn  decidedly.  "If 
you  have  finished  with  us,  I  want  to  thank  you  for  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  these,  and  Leslie,  some  day  I  really  think 
I  shall  try  that  bird  music.  The  idea  interests  me  more 
than  anything  I  ever  heard  of.  If  it  were  true,  it  would  be 
wonderful,  a  new  experience!" 

"If  you  want  to  hear  for  yourself,  make  it  soon,  because 
now  is  nesting  time;  not  again  until  next  spring  will  the 
music  be  so  entrancing.  I  can  go  any  day." 

"I'll  look  over  my  engagements  and  call  you.  If  one 
ever  had  a  minute  to  spare!" 

"Another  of  the  joys  of  wealth!"  said  Leslie.  "Only 
the  poor  can  afford  to  'loaf  and  invite  their  souls.'  The 
flowers  you  will  see  will  delight  your  eyes,  quite  as  much  as 
the  music  your  ears." 

"I  doubt  your  logic,  but  I'll  try  the  birds.  Are  you 
coming  Mr.  Minturn  ? " 

"Not  unless  you  especially  wish  me.  Are  these  for 
sale?"  he  asked,  picking  up  the  moccasins. 

"Only  those,"  replied  the  florist. 

"Send  your  bill,"  he  said,  turning  with  the  basket. 

"How  shining  a  thing  is  consistency!"  sneered  his  wife. 
"You  condemn  the  riches  you  never  have  been  able  to 
amass,  but  at  the  same  time  spend  like  a  millionaire." 

"I  never  said  I  was  not  able  to  gain  millions,"  replied 
Mr.  Minturn  coldly.  "I  have  had  frequent  opportuni- 


92  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

ties!  I  merely  refused  them,  because  I  did  not  consider 
them  legitimate.  As  for  my  method  in  buying  flowers,  in 
this  one  instance,  price  does  not  matter.  You  can  guess 
what  I  shall  do  with  them." 

"I  couldn't  possibly!"  answered  Mrs.  Minturn.  "The 
only  sure  venture  I  could  make  is  that  they  will  not  by 
any  chance  come  to  me." 

"No.  These  go  to  baby  Elizabeth,"  he  said.  "Do 
you  want  to  come  with  me  to  take  them  to  her?" 

With  an  audible  sneer  she  passed  him.  He  stepped 
aside,  gravely  raising  his  hat,  while  the  others  said  good- 
bye to  him  and  followed. 

"  Positively  insufferable ! "  cried  Mrs.  Minturn.  "  Every 
one  of  my  friends  say  they  do  not  know  how  I  endure  his 
insults  and  I  certainly  will  not  many  more.  I  don't,  I 
really  don't  know  what  he  expects." 

Mr.  Winton  and  Douglas  Bruce  were  confused,  while 
Leslie  was  frightened,  but  she  tried  turning  the  distressing 
occurrence  off  with  excuses. 

"Of  course  he  intended  no  insult!"  she  soothed.  "He 
must  have  adored  his  little  daughter  and  the  flowers  re- 
minded him.  I  am  so  much  obliged  for  your  opinion  and 
I  shall  be  glad  to  take  you  to  the  swamp  any  time.  Your 
little  sons — would  they  like  to  go?  It  is  a  most  interesting 
and  instructive  place  for  children." 

"For  Heaven's  sake  don't  mention  children!"  cried  Mrs. 
Minturn.  "They  are  a  bother  and  a  curse!" 

"Oh  Mrs.  Minturn!"  exclaimed  Leslie. 

"Of  course  I  don't  mean  quite  that;  but  I  do  very  near! 
Mine  are  perfect  little  devils;  all  the  trouble  James  and  I 


"BEARER  OF  MORNING"  93 

ever  had  came  through  them.  His  idea  of  a  mother  is  a 
combined  doctor,  wet-nurse  and  nursery  maid,  while  I 
must  say,  I  far  from  agree  with  him.  What  are  servants 
for  if  not  to  take  the  trouble  of  children  off  your  hands  ? " 

Leslie  was  glad  to  reach  the  rich  woman's  door  and 
deposit  her  there. 

As  the  car  sped  away  the  girl  turned  a  despairing  face 
toward  Douglas:  "For  the  love  of  Moike!"  she  cried. 
"Isn't  that  shocking?  Poor  Mr.  Minturn!" 

"I  don't  pity  him  half  so  much  as  I  do  her,"  he  an- 
swered. "What  must  a  woman  have  suffered  or  been 
through,  to  warp,  twist,  and  harden  her  like  that?" 

"Society  life,"  answered  Leslie,  "as  it  is  lived  by  people 
of  wealth  who  are  aping  royalty  and  the  titled  classes." 

"A  branch  of  them — possibly,"  conceded  Douglas. 
"I  know  some  titled  and  wealthy  people  who  would  be 
dumbfounded  over  that  woman's  ideas." 

"So  do  I,"  said  Leslie.  "Of  course  there  are  exceptions. 
Sometimes  the  exception  becomes  bigger  than  the  rule, 
but  not  in  our  richest  society.  Douglas,  let's  keep  close 
together!  Oh  don't  let's  ever  drift  into  such  a  state 
as  that.  I  should  have  asked  them  to  lunch,  but  I 
couldn't.  If  that  is  the  way  she  is  talking  before  her 
friends,  surely  she  won't  have  many,  soon." 

"Then  her  need  for  a  real  woman  like  you  will  be  all 
the  greater,"  answered  Douglas.  "I  suppose  you  should 
have  asked  her;  but  I'm  delighted  that  you  didn't!  To- 
day began  so  nearly  perfect,  I  want  to  end  it  with  only 
you  and  your  father.  Will  he  resent  me,  Leslie?" 

"It  all  depends  on  us.     If  we  are  selfish  and  leave  him 


94  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

alone  he  will  feel  it.     If  we  can  make  him  realize  gain 
instead  of  loss  he  will  be  happier  than  he  is  now." 

"I  wish  I  hadn't  felt  obliged  to  reject  his  offer  the  other 
night.  I'm  very  sorry  about  it." 

"I'm  not,"  said  Leslie.  "You  have  a  right  to  live  your 
life  in  your  own  way.  I  have  seen  enough  of  running  for 
office,  elections  and  appointments  that  I  hate  it.  You 
do  the  work  you  educated  yourself  for  and  I'll  help 
you." 

"Then  my  success  is  assured,"  laughed  Douglas.  "Les- 
lie, may  I  leave  my  basket 'here?  Will  you  care  for  it 
like  yours,  and  may  I  come  to  see  it  often?" 

"No.  You  may  come  to  see  me  and  look  at  the  basket 
incidentally,"  she  answered. 

"Do  you  think  Mrs.  Minturn  will  go  to  the  swamp  to 
listen  to  those  birds?"  he  asked. 

"Eventually  she  will,"  answered  the  girl.  "I  may  have 
to  begin  by  taking  her  to  an  orchard  to  hear  a  bird  of  gold 
sing  a  golden  song  about  *  sewing,  and  mending,  and  baby 
tending,'  to  start  on;  but  when  she  hears  that,  she  will  be 
eager  for  more." 

"How  interesting!"  cried  Douglas.  "'Bearer  of  Morn- 
ing,' sing  that  song  to  me  now." 

Leslie  whistled  the  air,  beating  time  with  her  hand, 
then  sang  the  words: 

"  'I  can  wash,  sir,  I  can  spin,  sir, 
I  can  sew  and  mend,  and  babies  tend.'" 

"Oh  you  'Bringer  of  Song!'"  exulted  Douglas.  "I'd 
rather  hear  you  sing  that  than  any  bird,  but  from  what 


"BEARER  OF  MORNING"  95 

she   said,    Nellie    Minturn    won't    care    particularly    for 
it!" 

"She  may  not  approve  of,  or  practise,  the  sentiment," 
said  Leslie,  "but  she'll  love  the  music  and  possibly  the 
musician.** 


CHAPTER  V 
LITTLE  BROTHER 

OW  what  am  I  going  to  do  yet  to  make  the  day 
shorter,  Lily  ? "  asked  Mickey. 

"I  guess  I  got  everything,"  she  answered. 
"There's  my  lunch.  Here's  my  pictures  to  cut.  Here's 
my  lesson  to  learn.  There's  my  sky  and  bird  crumbs. 
Mickey,  sometimes  they  hop  right  in  on  the  sheet.  Yes- 
t'day  one  tried  to  get  my  lunch.  Ain't  they  sassy?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mickey.  "They  fight  worse  than  rich 
folks.  I  don't  know  why  the  Almighty  pays  attention  if 
they  fall." 

"Mebby  nobody  else  cares,"  said  Peaches,  "and  He 
feels  obliged  to  'cause  He  made  'em." 

"Gee!  You  say  the  funniest  things,  kid,"  laughed 
Mickey  as  he  digested  the  idea.  "Wonder  if  He  cares  for 
us  'cause  He  made  us." 

"Mebby  he  didn't  make  us,"  suggested  Peaches. 

"Well  we  got  one  consoling  thing,"  said  Mickey.  "If 
He  made  any  of  them,  He  made  us,  and  if  He  didn't  make 
us,  He  didn't  none  of  them,  'cause  everybody  comes  in 
and  goes  out  the  same  way;  She  said  so." 

"Then  of  course  it's  so,"  agreed  Peaches.  "That  gives 
us  as  good  a  chance  as  anybody." 

"Course  it  does  if  we  got  sense  to  take  it,"  said  Mickey. 

96 


LITTLE  BROTHER  97 

"'We  got  to  wake  up  and  make  something  of  ourselves. 
Let  me  see  if  you  know  your  lesson  for  to-day  yet.  There 
is  the  picture  of  the  animal — there  is  the  word  that  spells 
its  name.  Now  what  is  it?" 

"Milk!"  answered  Peaches,  her  eyes  mischievous. 

Mickey  held  over  the  book  chuckling. 

"All  right!  There  is  the  word  for  that,  too.  For  being 
so  smart,  Miss  Chicken,  you  can  learn  it  'fore  you  get  any 
more  to  drink.  If  I  have  good  luck  to-day,  I'm  going  to 
blow  in  about  six  o'clock  with  a  slate  and  pencil  for  you; 
and  then  you  can  print  the  words  you  learn,  and  make 
pictures.  That'll  help  make  the  day  go  a  lot  faster." 

"Oh  it  goes  fast  enough  now,"  said  Peaches.  "I  love 
days  with  you  and  the  window  and  the  birds.  I  wish 
they'd  sing  more  though." 

"When  your  back  gets  well,  I'll  take  you  to  the  country 
where  they  sing  all  the  time,"  promised  Mickey,  "where 
there  are  grass,  and  trees,  and  flowers,  and  water  to  wade 
in  and " 

"Mickey,  stop  and  go  on!"  cried  Peaches.  "Sooner 
you  start,  the  sooner  I'll  get  my  next  verse.  I  want  just 
norful  good  one  to-night." 

She  held  up  her  arms.  Mickey  submitted  to  a  hug  and 
a  little  cold  dab  on  his  forehead,  counted  his  money,  locked 
the  door  and  ran.  On  the  car  he  sat  in  deep  thought,  then 
suddenly  sniggered  aloud.  He  had  achieved  the  next  in- 
stallment of  the  doggerel  to  which  every  night  Peaches 
insisted  on  having  a  new  verse  added  as  he  entered.  He 
secured  his  papers,  and  glimpsirg  the  headlines  started  on 
his  beat  crying  them  lustily. 


98  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Mickey  knew  that  washing,  better  air,  enough  food,  and 
oil  rubbing  were  improving  Peaches.  What  he  did  not 
know  was  that  adding  the  interest  of  her  presence  to  his 
life,  even  though  it  made  his  work  heavier,  was  showing  on 
him.  He  actually  seemed  bigger,  stronger,  and  his  face 
brighter  and  fuller.  He  swung  down  the  street  thrusting 
his  papers  right  and  left,  crossed  and  went  up  the  other 
side,  watching  closely  for  a  customer.  It  was  ten  o'clock 
and  opportunities  with  the  men  were  almost  over.  Mickey 
turned  to  scan  the  street  for  anything  even  suggesting  a 
sale.  He  saw  none  and  started  with  his  old  cry,  watching 
as  he  went:  "I  like  to  sell  papers!  Sometimes  I  sell  them! 
Sometimes  I  don't /' 

Then  he  saw  her.  She  was  so  fresh  and  joyous.  She 
walked  briskly.  Even  his  beloved  nurse  was  not  so  won- 
derful. Straight  toward  her  went  Mickey. 

"I  like  to  sell  papers!  Sometimes  I  sell  them!  Some- 
times I  don't!  Morning  paper,  lady!  Sterilized!  Deo- 
dorized! Vulcanized!  Nice  clean  paper!" 

The  girl's  eyes  betokened  interest;  her  smiling  lips  en- 
couraged Mickey.  He  laid  his  chin  over  her  arm,  leaned 
his  head  against  it  and  fell  in  step  with  her. 

"Sometimes  I  sell  them!  Sometimes  I  don't !  If  I  sell 
them,  I'm  happy!  If  I  don't,  I'm  hungry  !  If  you  buy 
them,  you're  happy!  Pa — per? — lady." 

"Not  to-day,  thank  you,"  she  said.  "I'm  shopping, 
so  I  don't  wish  to  carry  it." 

Mickey  saw  Peaches'  slate  vanishing.  It  was  a 
beautiful  slate,  small  so  it  would  not  tire  her  bits  of 
hands,  and  its  frame  was  covered  with  red.  His  face 


"  'I  can  wash,  sir,  I  can  spin,  sir,  I  can  sew  and  mend, 
and  babies  tend/  " 


LITTLE  BROTHER  99 

sobered,  his  voice  changed,  taking  on  unexpected  modula- 
tions 

"Aw  lady!  I  thought  youd  buy  my  paper!  Far  down 
the  street  I  saw  you  coming.  Lady,  I  like  your  gentle 
voice.  I  like  your  pleasant  smile  !  You  don't  want  a  nice 
sterilized  paper? — lady." 

The  lady  stopped  short;  she  lifted  Mickey's  chin  in  a 
firm  grip,  looking  intently  into  his  face. 

"Just  by  the  merest  chance,  could  your  name  be 
Mickey?"  she  asked. 

"Sure,  lady!     Mickey!     Michael  O'Halloran!" 

Her  smile  became  even  more  attractive. 

"I  really  don't  want  to  be  bothered  with  a  paper/'  she 
said;  "but  I  do  wish  a  note  delivered.  If  you'll  carry  it, 
I'll  pay  you  the  price  of  half  a  dozen  papers." 

"Gets  the  slate!"  cried  Mickey,  bouncing  like  a  rubber 
boy.  "Sure  I  will!  Is  it  ready,  lady?" 

"One  minute!"  she  said.  She  stepped  to  the  inside  of 
the  walk,  opened  her  purse,  wrote  a  line  on  a  card,  slipped 
it  in  an  envelope,  addressed  it  and  handed  it  to  Mickey. 

"You  can  read  that?"  she  asked. 

"I've  read  worse  writing  than  that,"  he  assured  her. 
"You  ought  to  see  the  hieroglyphics  some  of  the  dimun- 
studded  dames  put  up!" 

Mickey  took  a  last  glimpse  at  the  laughing  face,  then 
wheeling  ran.  Presently  he  went  into  a  big  building, 
studied  the  address  board,  then  entered  the  elevator 
and  following  a  corridor  reached  the  number. 

He  paused  a  second,  glancing  around,  when  he  saw 
the  name  on  the  opposite  door.  A  flash  passed  over 


ioo  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

his  face.  "Ugh!"  he  muttered.  "'Member  now — been 
to  this  place  before!  Glad  she  ain't  sending  a  letter  to 
that  man."  He  stepped  inside  the  open  door  before  him, 
crossed  the  room  and  laid  the  note  near  a  man  who  was 
bending  over  some  papers  on  a  desk.  The  man  reached  a 
groping  hand,  tore  open  the  envelope,  taking  therefrom  a 
card  on  which  was  pencilled:  "Could  this  by  any  chance  be 
your  Little  Brother?" 

He  turned  hastily,  glanced  at  Mickey,  then  in  a  con- 
tinuous movement  arose  with  outstretched  hand. 

"Why  Little  Brother,"  he  cried,  "I'm  so  glad  to  see 
you!"  " 

Mickey's  smile  slowly  vanished  as  he  whipped  his  hands 
behind  him,  stepping  back. 

"Nothin'  doing,  Boss,"  he  said.  "You're  off  your 
trolley.  I've  no  brother.  My  mother  had  only  me." 

"Don't  you  remember  me,  Mickey?"  inquired  Douglas 
Bruce. 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.     "You  made  Jimmy  pay  up!" 

"Has  he  bothered  you  again?"  asked  the  lawyer. 

'Nope!"  answered  Mickey. 

"Sit  down,  Mickey,  I  want  to  talk  with  you." 

"I'm  much  obliged  for  helping  me  out,"  said  Mickey, 
"but  I  guess  you  got  other  business,  and  I  know  I  have." 

"What  is  your  business?"  was  the  next  question. 

"Selling  papers.     What's  yours?"  was  the  answer. 

"Trying  to  be  a  corporation  lawyer,"  explained  Douglas. 
*Tve  been  here  only  two  years,  and  it  is  slow  getting  a 
start.  I  often  have  more  time  to  spare  than  I  wish  I  had, 
while  I'm  lonesome  no  end." 


LITTLE  BROTHER  101 

"Is  your  mother  dead?"  asked  Mickey  solicitously. 

"Yes,"  answered  Douglas. 

"So's  mine!"  he  commented.  "You  do  get  lonesome! 
Course  she  was  a  good  one?" 

"The  very  finest,  Mickey,"  said  Douglas.  "And 
yours  ? " 

"Same  here,  Mister,"  said  Mickey  with  conviction. 

"Well  since  we  are  both  motherless  and  lonesome,  sup- 
pose we  be  brothers!"  suggested  Douglas. 

"Aw-w-w!"     Mickey  shook  his  head. 

"No?"  questioned  Douglas. 

"What's  the  use?"  cried  Mickey. 

"You  could  help  me  with  my  work  and  share  my  play, 
while  possibly  I  could  be  of  benefit  to  you." 

"I  just  wondered  if  you  wasn't  getting  to  that,"  com- 
mented Mickey. 

"Getting  to  what?"  inquired  Douglas. 

"Going  to  do  me  good!"  explained  Mickey.  "The 
swell  stiffs  are  always  going  to  do  us  fellows  good.  Mostly 
they  do !  They  do  us  good  and  brown !  They  pick  us  up 
a  while  and  make  lap  dogs  of  us,  then  when  we've  lost 
our  appetites  for  our  jobs  and  got  to  having  a  hankerin'  for 
the  fetch  and  carry  business  away  they  go  and  forget  us, 
so  we're  a  lot  worse  off  than  we  were  before.  Some  of 
the  fellows  come  out  of  it  knowing  more  ways  to  be  mean 
than  they  ever  learned  on  the  street,"  explained  Mickey. 
"If  it's  that  Big  Brother  bee  you  got  in  your  bonnet,  pull 
its  stinger  and  let  it  die  an  unnatural  death!  Nope! 
None!  Good-bye!" 

"Mickey,  wait!"  cried  Douglas. 


102  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Me  business  calls,  an'  I  must  go — 'way  to  my  ranch  in 
Idaho!"  gaily  sang  Mickey. 

"I'd  like  to  shake  you!"  said  Douglas  Bruce. 

"Well,  go  on,"  said  Mickey.  "I'm  here  and  you're 
big  enough." 

"If  I  thought  it  would  jolt  out  your  fool  notions  and 
shake  some  sense  in,  I  would,"  said  Douglas  indignantly. 

"Now  look  here,  Kitchener,"  said  Mickey.  "Did  I 
say  one  word  that  ain't  so,  and  that  you  don't  know  is  so  ? " 

"What  you  said  is  not  even  half  a  truth,  young  man !  I 
do  know  cases  where  idle  rich  men  have  tried  the  Little 
Brother  plan  as  a  fad,  and  made  a  failure  of  it.  But  for  a 
few  like  that,  I  know  dozens  of  sincere,  educated  men  who 
are  honestly  giving  a  boy  they  fancy,  a  chance.  I  can 
take  you  into  the  office  of  one  of  the  most  influential 
men  in  this  city,  right  across  the  hall  there,  and  show  you 
a  boy  he  liketl  who  has  in  a  short  time  become  his  friend, 
an  invaluable  helper,  and  hourly  companion,  and  out  of 
it  that  boy  will  get  a  fine  education,  good  business  train- 
ing, and  a  start  in  life  that  will  give  him  a  better  chance 
to  begin  on  than  the  man  who  is  helping  him  had." 

Mickey  laughed  boisterously,  then  sobered  suddenly. 

(0Scuse  me,  Brother,"  he  said  politely,  "but  that's  most 
too  funny  for  any  use.  Once  I  took  a  whirl  with  that 
gentleman  myself.  Whether  he  does  or  not,  I  know  the 
place  where  he  ought  to  get  off.  See?  Answer  me  this: 
why  would  he  be  spending  money  and  taking  all  that 
time  for  a  'newsy'  when  he  hardly  knows  his  own  kids 
if  he  sees  them,  and  they're  the  wickedest  little  rippers 
in  the  park.  Just  why  now?" 


LITTLE  BROTHER  103 

Douglas  Bruce  closed  the  door;  then  he  came  back  and 
placing  a  chair  for  Mickey,  he  took  one  opposite. 

"Sit  down  Mickey,"  he  said  patiently.  "There's  a 
reason  for  my  being  particularly  interested  in  James 
Minturn,  and  the  reason  hinges  on  the  fact  you  men- 
tion: that  he  can't  control  his  own  sons,  yet  can  make  a 
boy  he  takes  comfort  in,  of  a  street  gamin." 

Mickey's  eyes  narrowed  while  he  sat  very  straight  in  the 
chair  he  had  accepted. 

"If  he's  made  so  much  of  him,  it  sort  of  proves  that  he 
wasn't  a  gamin.  Some  of  the  boys  are  a  long  shot  closer 
gentlemen  than  the  guys  who  are  experimenting  with 
them;  'cause  they  were  born  rich  and  can  afford  it.  If  your 
friend's  going  to  train  his  pick-up  to  be  what  he  is,  then 
that  boy  would  stand  a  better  chance  on  his  own  side  the 
curb.  See?  I've  been  right  up  against  that  gentleman 
with  the  documents,  so  I  know  him.  Also  her!  Gee! 
'Tear  up  de  choild  and  gimme  de  papers'  was  meant  for 
a  joke;  but  I  saw  that  lady  and  gentleman  do  it.  See? 
And  she  was  the  prettiest  little  pink  and  yellow  thing. 
Lord!  I  can  see  her  gasping  and  blinking  now!  Makes 
me  sick!  If  the  boy  across  the  hall  had  seen  what  I  did. 
he'd  run  a  mile  and  never  stop.  Gee!" 

Douglas  Bruce  stared  aghast.  At  last  he  said  slowly: 
"Mickey,  you  are  getting  mighty  close  the  very  thing  I 
wish  to  know.  If  I  tell  you  what  I  know  of  James  Min- 
turn, will  you  tell  me  what  you  know  and  think?" 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey  readily.  "I  got  no  reasons  for 
loving  him.  I  wouldn't  convoy  a  millying  to  the  mint 
for  that  gentleman!" 


io4  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Mickey,  shall  I  go  first,  or  will  you?" 

"I  will,"  replied  Mickey  instantly,  "'cause  when  I  finish 
you'll  save  your  breath.  See?" 

"  I  see,"  said  Douglas  Bruce.     "  Proceed." 

"Well,  'twas  over  two  years  ago,"  said  Mickey,  lean- 
ing forward  to  look  Bruce  in  the  eyes.  "I  hadn't  been 
up  against  the  game  so  awful  long  alone.  'Twas  summer 
and  my  papers  were  all  gone,  and  I  was  tired,  so  I  went 
over  in  the  park  and  sat  on  a  seat,  just  watching  folks. 
Pretty  soon  'long  comes  walking  a  nice  lady  with  a  sweet 
voice  and  kind  eyes.  She  sat  down  close  me  and  says: 
'It's  a  nice  day.'  We  got  chummy-like,  when  right  up 
at  the  fountain  before  us  stops  as  swell  an  automobile  as 
there  is.  One  of  the  brown  French-governess-ladies  with 
the  hatchet  face  got  out,  and  unloaded  three  kids:  two 
boys  and  a  girl.  She  told  the  kids  if  they  didn't  sit  on 
the  benches  she  socked  them  on  hard,  and  keep  their 
clothes  clean  so  she  wouldn't  have  to  wash  and  dress  them 
again  that  day,  she'd  knock  the  livers  out  of  them,  and 
walked  off  with  the  entrance  policeman.  Soon  as  she 
and  Bobbie  got  interested,  the  kids  began  sliding  off  the 
bench  and  running  around  the  fountain.  The  girl  was 
only  'bout  two  or  three,  a  fat  toddly  thing,  trying  to  do 
what  her  brothers  did,  and  taking  it  like  the  gamest  kid 
you  ever  saw  when  they  pushed  her  off  the  seat,  and 
tripped  her,  and  'bused  her  like  a  dog. 

"Me  and  the  woman  were  getting  madder  every  min- 
ute. 'Go  tell  your  nurse,'  says  she.  But  the  baby  thing 
just  glanced  where  nurse  was  and  kind  of  shivered  and 
laughed,  and  ran  on  round  the  fountain,  when  the  big  boy 


LITTLE  BROTHER  105 

stuck  his  foot  out  so  she  fell.  Nursie  saw  and  started  for 
her,  but  she  scrambled  up  and  went  kiting  for  the  bench, 
and  climbed  on  it,  so  nurse  told  her  she'd  cut  the  blood  out 
of  her  if  she  did  that  again,  then  went  back  to  her  police- 
man. Soon  as  she  was  gone  those  little  devils  began 
coaxing  their  sister  to  get  down  and  run  again.  At  last 
she  began  to  smile  the  cunningest  and  slipped  to  the  walk, 
then  a  little  farther,  and  a  little  farther,  all  the  time  laugh- 
ing and  watching  the  nurse.  The  big  boy,  he  said:  'You 
ain't  nothing  but  a  girl !  You  can't  step  on  the  edge  like 
I  can  and  then  step  back!'  She  says:  'C'n  too!'  She 
did  to  show  him,  and  just  as  she  did  she  saw  that  he  was 
going  to  push  her,  then  she  tried  to  get  back,  but  he  did 
push,  and  over  she  went!  Not  real  in,  but  her  arms  in, 
and  her  dress  front  some  wet. 

"She  screamed  while  the  little  devil  that  pushed  her 
grabbed  her,  pretending  to  be  pulling  her  out.  Honest 
he  did!  Up  came  nurse  just  frothing,  and  in  language  we 
couldn't  understand  she  ripped  and  raved.  She  dragged 
little  pink  back,  grabbed  her  by  the  hair  and  cracked  her 
head  two  or  three  times  against  the  stone  I  The  lady 
screamed,  and  so  did  I,  and  we  both  ran  at  her.  The 
boys  just  shouted  and  laughed  and  the  smallest  one  he 
up  and  kicked  her  while  she  was  down.  The  policeman 
walked  over  laughing  too,  but  he  told  nurse  that  was  too 
rough.  Then  my  lady  pitched  in,  so  he  told  her  to  tend  to 
her  business,  that  those  kids  were  too  tough  to  live,  and  de- 
served all  they  got.  The  nurse  laughed  at  her,  and  went 
back  to  the  grass  with  the  policeman.  The  baby  lay 
there  on  the  stones,  and  never  made  a  sound.  She  just 


106  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

kind  of  gasped,  and  blinked,  and  lay  there,  till  my  lady 
went  almost  wild.  She  went  to  her  and  stooped  to  lift 
her  up  when  she  got  awful  sick.  The  policeman  said  some- 
thing to  the  nurse,  so  she  came  and  dragged  the  kid 
away  and  said,  'The  little  pig  has  gone  and  eaten  too  much 
again,  and  now  I'll  have  to  take  her  home  and  wash  and 
dress  her  all  over,'  then  she  gave  her  an  awful  shake.  The 
policeman  said  she'd  better  cut  that  out,  because  it  might 
have  been  the  bumping,  and  she  said  'good  for  her  if 
'twas.'  The  driver  pulled  up  just  then  and  he  asked  'if 
the  brat  had  been  stuffin'  too  much  again?'  She  said, 
'yes,'  and  the  littlest  boy  he  said,  'she  pounded  her  head 
on  the  stone,  good,'  and  the  nurse  hit  him  'cross  the  mouth 
till  she  knocked  him  against  the  car,  and  she  said,  'Want 
to  try  that  again  ?  Open  your  head  to  say  that  again,  and 
I'll  smash  you  too.  Eating  too  much  made  her  sick'  She 
looked  at  the  big  boy  fierce  like  so  he  laughed  and  said, 
*  Course  eating  too  much  made  her  sick!'  She  nodded 
at  him  and  said,  'Course!  You  get  two  dishes  of  ice  and 
two  pieces  of  cake  for  remembering!'  then  she  loaded 
them  in  and  they  drove  away. 

"My  lady  was  as  white  as  marble  and  she  said,  '  Is  there 
any  way  to  find  out  who  they  are  ?'  I  said, 'Sure!  Haifa 
dozen!*  'Boy,'  she  said,  'get  their  residence  for  me  and 
I'll  give  you  a  dollar/  Ought  to  seen  me  fly.  Car  was 
chuffing  away,  waiting  to  get  the  traffic  cop's  sign  when 
to  cut  in  on  the  avenue.  I  just  took  a  dodge  and  hung  on 
to  the  extra  tire  under  the  top  where  nobody  saw  me,  and 
when  they  stopped,  I  got  the  house  number  they  went  in. 
Little  pink  was  lying  all  white  and  limber  yet,  and  nurse 


LITTLE  BROTHER  107 

looked  worried  as  she  carried  her  up.  She  said  some- 
thing fierce  to  the  boys,"  the  big  one  rang  and  they  went 
inside.  I  saw  a  footman  take  the  girl.  I  heard  nurse 
begin  that  'eat  too  much'  story,  then  I  cut  back  to  the 
park.  The  lady  said,  'Get  it?'  I  said,  'Sure!  Dead 
easy.'  She  said,  'Can  you  take  me?'  I  said,  'Glad  to!' 

"She  said,  'That  was  the  dreadfullest  sight  I  ever  saw. 
That  child's  mother  is  going  to  know  right  now  what  kind 
of  a  nurse  she  is  paying  to  take  care  of  her  children.  You 
come  show  me,'  she  said,  so  we  went. 

'"Will  you  come  in  with  me?'  she  asked  when  we  got 
there  and  I  said,  'Yes!' 

"Well,  we  rang  and  she  asked  pleasant  to  see  the  lady  of 
the  house  on  a  little  matter  of  important  business,  so 
pretty  soon  here  comes  one  of  the  dimun-studded,  fashion- 
paper  ladies,  all  smiling  sweet  as  honey,  and  asked  what  the 
business  was.  My  nice  lady  she  said  her  name  was  Mrs. 
John  Wilson  and  her  husband  was  a  banker  in  Plymouth, 
Illinois,  and  she  was  in  the  city  shopping  and  went  to  the 
park  to  rest  and  was  talking  to  me,  when  an  automobile 
let  out  a  nurse,  and  two  boys  and  a  lovely  little  pink  girl, 
and  she  give  the  number  and  asked,  'was  the  car  and  the 
children  hers?'  The  dimun-lady  slowly  sort  of  began  to 
freeze  over,  and  when  the  nice  lady  got  that  far,  she  said: 
'  I  have  an  engagement.  Kindly  state  in  -zjew  words  what 
you  want.' 

"My  lady  sort  of  stiffened  up  and  then  she  said:  'I  saw, 
this  boy  here  saw,  and  the  park  policeman  nearest  the  en- 
trance fountain  saw  your  nurse  take  your  little  girl  by  the 
hair,  and  strike  her  head  against  the  fountain  curb  three 


io8  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

times,  because  her  brother  pushed  her  in.  She  lay  in- 
sensible until  the  car  came,  and  she  has  just  been  carried 
into  your  house  in  that  condition.' 

"I  could  see  the  footman  peeking  and  at  that  he  cut  up 
the  stairs.  The  dimun-lady  stiffened  up  and  she  said: 
'So  you  are  one  of  those  meddling,  interfering  country  jays 
that  come  here  and  try  to  make  us  lose  our  good  servants, 
so  you  can  hire  them  later.  I've  seen  that  done  before. 
Lucette  is  invaluable/  said  she,  'and  perfectly  reliable. 
Takes  all  the  care  of  those  dreadful  little  imps  from  me. 
Now  you  get  out  of  here.'  And  she  reached  for  the  but- 
ton. 

"My  lady  just  sat  still  and  smiled. 

"'Do  you  really  think  I'd  take  the  trouble  to  come  here 
in  this  way  if  I  couldn't  prove  I  had  seen  the  thing  hap- 
pen?' she  asked. 

"God  only  knows  what  you  country  women  would 
do!'  the  woman  answered. 

"We  would  stand  between  our  children  and  beastly 
cruelty,'  my  lady  said.  'Your  child's  condition  is  all  the 
proof  my  words  need.  You  go  examine  her  head,  and 
feel  the  welt  on  it;  see  how  ill  she  is  and  you  will  thank  me. 
Your  nurse  is  not  reliable!  Keep  her  and  your  children 
will  be  ruined,  if  not  killed.' 

"Raving!5  sneered  the  dimun-lady.  'But  I  know 
your  kind  so  I'll  go,  as  it's  the  only  way  to  get  rid  of 
you.' 

"Now  what  do  you  think  happened  next?  Well  sir, 
'bout  three  minutes  in  walked  the  footman  and  salutes, 
sneering  like  a  cat,  and  he  said:  'Madam's  compliments. 


LITTLE  BROTHER  109 

She  finds  her  little  daughter  in  perfect  condition,  sweetly 
sleeping,  and  her  sons  having  dinner.  She  asks  you  to  see 
how  quickly  you  can  leave  her  residence.' 

"The  woman  looked  at  me  so  I  said:  'It's  all  over  but 
burying  the  kid  if  it  dies;  come  on,  lady,  they'd  be  glad  to 
plant  it,  and  get  it  out  of  the  way.'  So  I  started  and  she 
followed,  and  just  as  he  let  me  out  the  door  I  handed  him 
this:  'I  saw  you  listen  and  cut  to  tell,  and  I  bet  you  helped 
put  the  kid  to  sleep!  But  you  better  look  out!  She  gave 
it  to  that  baby  too  rough  for  any  use!' 

"He  started  for  me,  but  I  flew.  When  we  got  on  the 
street,  the  lady  was  all  used  up  so  she  couldn't  say  any- 
thing. She  had  me  call  a  taxi  to  take  her  to  her  hotel.  I 
set  down  her  name  she  gave  me,  and  her  house  and  street 
number.  I  cut  to  a  Newsies'  directory  and  got  the  name 
of  the  owner  of  the  palace-place  and  it  was  Mrs.  James 
Minturn.  Next  morning  coming  down  on  the  cars  I  was 
hunting  headliners  to  make  up  a  new  call,  like  I  always  do, 
and  there  I  saw  in  big  type,  'Mr.  and  Mrs.  James  Minturn 
prostrate  over  the  sudden  death  of  their  lovely  little  daugh- 
ter from  poisoning,  from  an  ice  she  ate.'  I  read  it  every 
word.  Even  what  the  doctors  said,  and  how  investigation 
of  the  source  of  the  ice  came  from  was  to  be  made.  What 
do  you  think  of  it?" 

"I  have  no  doubt  but  it's  every  word  horrible  truth," 
answered  Douglas. 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "I  just  hiked  to  the  park  and 
walked  up  to  the  cop  and  showed  him  the  paper,  and  he 
looked  awful  glum.  I  can  point  him  out  to  you,  and  give 
you  the  lady's  address,  and  there  were  plenty  more  who 


i  io  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

saw  parts  of  it  could  be  found  if  anybody  was  on  the  kid's 
side.  Sure  it's  the  truth! 

"Well  I  kept  a-thinking  it  over.  One  day  about  three 
weeks  later,  blest  if  the  same  car  didn't  stop  at  the  same 
fountain,  and  the  same  nurse  got  out  with  the  boys  and  she 
set  them  on  the  same  bench  and  told  them  the  same  thing, 
and  then  she  went  into  another  palaver  with  the  same 
p'liceman.  I  looked  on  pretty  much  interested,  and  be- 
fore long  the  boys  got  to  running  again  and  one  tripped  the 
other,  and  she  saw  and  come  running,  and  fetched  him  a 
crack  like  to  split  his  head,  and  pushed  him  down  still  and 
white,  so  I  said  to  myself:  'All  right  for  you.  Lady  tried  a 
lady  and  got  nothing.  Here's  where  a  gentleman  tries  a 
gentleman,  and  sees  what  he  gets/ 

"I  marched  into  the  door  just  across  the  hall  from  you 
here,  and  faced  Mr.  James  Minturn,  and  gave  him  names, 
and  dates,  and  addresses,  even  the  copper's  name  I'd  got; 
and  I  told  him  all  I've  told  you,  and  considerable  more. 
He  wasn't  so  fiery  as  the  lady,  so  I  told  him  the  whole 
thing,  but  he  never  opened  his  trap.  He  just  sat  still  and 
stony,  listened  till  I  quit,  and  finally  he  heaved  a  big  breath 
and  looked  at  me  sort  of  dazed  like  and  he  said:  'What  do 
you  want,  boy  ? ' 

"That  made  me  red  hot  so  I  said:  'I  want  you  to  know 
that  I  saw  the  same  woman  bust  one  of  your  boys  a  good 
crack,  over  the  head,  a  few  minutes  ago. ' 

"That  made  him  jump,  but  he  didn't  say  or  do  any- 
thing, so  I  got  up  and  went — and — the  same  woman  was  in 
the  park  with  the  same  boys  yesterday,  and  they're  the 
biggest  little  devils  there.  What's  the  answer?" 


LITTLE  BROTHER  in 

"A  heartbroken  man,"  said  Douglas  Bruce.  "Now  let 
me  tell  you,  Mickey." 

Then  he  told  Mickey  all  he  knew  of  James  Mintum. 

"All  the  same,  he  ought  to  be  able  to  do  something  for 
his  own  kids,  'stead  of  boys  who  don't  need  it  half  so  bad," 
commented  Mickey.  "Why  honest,  I  don't  know  one 
street  kid  so  low  that  he'd  kick  a  little  girl — after  she'd 
been  beat  up  scandalous,  for  his  meanness  to  start  on. 
Honest,  I  don't!  I  don't  care  what  he  is  doing  for  the  boy 
he  has  got,  that  boy  doesn't  need  help  half  so  much  as  his 
own;  I  can  prove  it  to  you,  if  you'll  come  with  me  to  the 
park  'most  any  morning." 

"All  right,  I'll  come,"  said  Douglas  promptly. 

"Well  I  couldn't  say  that  they  would  be  there  this  min- 
ute," said  Mickey,  "but  I  can  call  you  up  the  first  time  I 
see  they  are." 

"Ail  right,  I'll  come,  if  it's  possible.  I'd  like  to  see  for 
myself.  So  this  gives  you  a  settled  prejudice  against  the 
Big  Brother  movement,  Mickey  ? " 

"In  my  brogans,  what  would  it  give  you?" 

"A  hard  jolt!"  said  Douglas  emphatically. 

"Then  what's  the  answer?" 

"That  it  is  more  unfair  than  I  thought  you  could  be,  to 
deprive  me  of  my  Little  Brother,  because  you  deem  the 
man  across  the  hall  unfit  to  have  one.  Do  I  look  as  if  you 
couldn't  trust  me,  Mickey?" 

"No,  you  don't!  But  neither  does  Mr.  James  Minturn. 
He  looks  as  if  a  fellow  could  get  a  grip  on  him  and  pull  safe 
across  Belgium  hanging  on.  But  you  know  I  said  the 
same  woman " 


H2  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"I  know  Mickey;  but  that  only  proves  that  there  are 
times  when  even  the  strongest  man  can't  help  him- 
self." 

"Then  like  Ulhan  I'd  trot  1:54^  to  the  judge  of  the 
Juvenile  Court,"  said  Mickey,  "and  I'd  yell  long  and  loud, 
and  I'd  put  up  the  proof.  That  would  get  the  lady  down 
to  brass  tacks.  See?" 

"But  with  Mrs.  Mintum's  position  and  the  stain  such  a 
proceeding  would  put  on  the  boys " 

"Cut  out  the  boys,"  advised  Mickey.  "They're  gold 
plated,  staining  wouldn't  stick  to  them." 

"So  you  are  going  to  refuse  education,  employment  and 
a  respectable  position  because  you  disapprove  of  one  man 
among  millions?"  demanded  Douglas. 

"That  lets  me  out,"  said  Mickey.  "She  educated  me  a 
lot!  No  day  is  long  enough  for  the  work  I  do  right  now; 
you  can  take  my  word  for  it  that  I'm  respectable,  same  as 
I'm  taking  yours  that  you  are." 

"All  right!"  said  Douglas.  "We  will  let  it  go  then. 
Maybe  you  are  right.  At  least  you  are  not  worth  the 
bother  it  requires  to  wake  you  up.  Will  you  take  an  an- 
swer to  the  note  you  brought  me?" 

"Now  the  returns  are  coming  in,"  said  Mickey.  "Sure 
I  will;  but  she  is  in  the  big  stores  shopping." 

"I'll  find  out,"  said  Douglas. 

He  picked  up  the  telephone  and  called  the  Winton  resi- 
dence; on  learning  Leslie  was  still  away,  he  left  a  request 
that  she  call  him  when  she  returned. 

"I  would  spend  the  time  talking  with  you,"  he  said  to 
Mickey,  "if  I  could  accomplish  anything;  as  I  can't,  I'll 


LITTLE  BROTHER  113 

go  on  with  my  work.  You  busy  yourself  with  anything 
around  the  rooms  that  interests  you." 

Mickey  grinned  half  abashed.  He  took  a  long  survey 
of  the  room  they  were  in,  arose  and  standing  in  the  door 
leading  to  the  next  he  studied  that.  To  him  "busy" 
meant  work.  Presently  he  went  into  the  hall  and  returned 
with  a  hand  broom  and  dust  pan  he  had  secured  from  the 
janitor.  He  carefully  went  over  the  floor,  removing  any- 
thing he  could  see  that  he  thought  should  not  be  there,  and 
then  began  on  the  room  adjoining.  Next  he  appeared  with 
a  cloth  and  dusted  the  furniture  and  window  seats.  Once 
he  met  Douglas'  eye  and  smiled.  "Your  janitor  didn't 
have  much  of  a  mother,"  he  commented.  "I  could  beat 
him  to  his  base  a  rod." 

"Job  is  yours  any  time  you  want  it." 

"Morning  papers,"  carrolled  Mickey.  "Sterilized,  deo- 
dorized, vulcanized.  I  like  to  sell  them " 

Defeated  again  Bruce  turned  to  his  work  and  Mickey  to 
his.  He  straightened  every  rug,  pulled  a  curtain,  set  a 
blind  at  an  angle  that  gave  the  worker  more  light  and  bet- 
ter air.  He  was  investigating  the  state  of  the  glass  when 
the  telephone  rang. 

"Hello,  Leslie!  It  certainly  was!  How  did  you  do  it ? 
Not  so  hilarious  as  you  might  suppose.  Leslie,  I  want  to 
say  something,  not  for  the  wire.  Will  you  hold  the  line  a 
second  until  I  start  Mickey  with  it?  All  right! 

"She  is  there  now,  Mickey.  Can  you  find  your 
way?" 

"Sure!"  laughed  Mickey.  "If  you  put  the  address  on. 
She  started  me  from  the  street." 


ii4  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"The  address  is  plain.  For  straightening  my  rooms  and 
carrying  the  note,  will  that  be  about  right?" 

"A  lady-bird!  Gee!"  cried  Mickey.  "I  didn't  s'pose 
you  was  a  plute!  And  I  don't  s'pose  so  yet.  You  want 
a  Little  Brother  bad  if  you're  willing  to  buy  one.  This 
number  ain't  far  out,  and  I  wouldn't  have  sold  more  than 
three  papers  this  time  of  day — twenty-five  is  about  right." 

"But  you  forget  cleaning  my  rooms,"  said  Douglas. 

Mickey  grinned,  his  face  flushed.  He  waved  his  hand 
gracefully. 

"Me  to  you!"  he  said.  "Nothing!  Just  a  little  mat- 
ter of  keeping  in  practice.  Good-bye  and  be  good  to  your- 
self!" 

Douglas  turned  to  the  telephone. 

"Leslie!"  he  said,  "I'm  sending  Mickey  back  to  you 
with  a  note,  not  because  I  had  anything  to  say  I  couldn't 
say  now,  but  because  I  can't  manage  him.  I  pretended 
1  didn't  care,  and  let  him  go.  Can't  you  help  me?  See 
if  you  can't  interest  him  in  something  that  at  least  will 
bring  him  back,  or  show  us  where  to  find  him.  Cer' 
tainly !  Thank  you  very  much ! " 

When  Mickey  delivered  the  letter  the  lovely  young 
woman  just  happened  to  be  in  the  hall.  She  told  him  to 
come  in  until  she  read  it,  to  learn  what  Mr.  Bruce  wanted. 
Mickey  followed  into  a  big  room,  looked  around,  then 
a  speculative,  appreciative  gleam  crossed  his  face.  He 
realized  the  difference  between  a  home  and  a  show  room. 
He  did  not  know  what  he  was  seeing  or  why  it  affected 
him  as  it  did.  Really  the  thought  that  was  in  his  mind 
was  that  this  woman  was  far  more  attractive,  but  had  less 


LITTLE  BROTHER  115 

money  to  spend  on  her  home,  than  many  others.  He 
missed  the  glitter,  but  enjoyed  the  comfort,  for  he  leaned 
back  against  the  chair  offered  him,  thinking  what  a  cool, 
restful  place  it  was.  The  girl  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  open 
the  letter. 

"Have  trouble  finding  Mr.  Bruce?"  she  asked. 

"Easy!     I'd  been  to  the  same  building  before." 

"And  I  suppose  you'll  be  there  many  times  again,"  she 
suggested. 

"I'm  going  back  right  now,  if  you  want  to  send  an  an- 
swer to  that  letter,"  he  said. 

"And  if  it  requires  none?"  she  questioned. 

"Then  I'm  going  to  try  to  sell  the  rest  of  these  papers, 
get  a  slate  for  Lily  and  go  home." 

"Is  Lily  your  little  sister?"  she  asked. 

Mickey  straightened,  firmly  closing  his  lips.  He  had 
done  it  again. 

"Just  a  little  girl  I  know,"  he  said  cautiously. 

"A  little  bit  of  a  girl?"  she  asked. 

'"Bout  the  littlest  girl  you  ever  saw,"  said  Mickey,  un- 
consciously interested  in  the  subject. 

"And  you  are  going  to  take  her  a  slate  to  draw  pictures 
on?  How  fine!  I  wish  you'd  carry  her  a  package  for  me, 
too.  I  was  arranging  my  dresser  this  morning  and  I 
put  the  ribbons  I  don't  want  into  a  box  for  some  child. 
Maybe  Lily  would  like  them  for  her  doll." 

"Lily  hasn't  any  doll/'  he  said.  "She  had  one,  but  her 
granny  sold  it  and  got  drunk  on  the  money." 

Mickey  stopped  suddenly.  In  a  minute  more  he  would 
have  another  Orphans'  Home  argument  on  his  hands. 


ii6  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Scandalous!"  cried  Leslie.  "In  my  room  there  is  a 
doll  just  begging  to  go  to  some  little  girl.  If  you  took  it 
to  Lily,  would  her  granny  sell  it  again  ?" 

"Not  this  morning,"  said  Mickey.  "You  see  Miss,  a 
few  days  ago  she  lost  her  breath.  Permanent!  No!  li 
Lily  had  a  doll,  nobody  would  take  it  from  her  now." 

"I'll  bring  it  at  once,"  she  offered  "and  the  ribbons. 
Excuse  me!" 

"Never  mind,"  said  Mickey.     "I  can  get  her  a  doll." 

But  you  haven't  seen  this  one!"  cried  Leslie.     "You 
save  your  money  for  oranges." 

Without  waiting  for  a  reply  she  left  the  room,  presently 
returning  with  a  box  and  a  doll  that  seemed  to  Mickey 
quite  as  large  as  Peaches.  It  had  a  beautiful  face,  hair, 
real  hair  that  could  be  combed,  and  real  clothes  that  could 
be  taken  off.  Leslie  had  dressed  it  for  a  birthday  gift  for 
the  little  daughter  of  one  of  her  friends;  but  by  making 
haste  she  could  prepare  another.  Mickey  gazed  in  be- 
wilderment. He  had  seen  dolls,  even  larger  and  more 
wonderful  than  that,  in  the  shop  windows,  but  connecting 
such  a  creation  with  his  room  and  Peaches  required  mental 
adjustments. 

"I  guess  you  better  not,"  he  said  with  conviction 

"But  why  not?"  asked  Leslie  in  amazement. 

"Well  for  'bout  fifty  reasons,"  replied  Mickey.  "You 
see  Lily  is  a  poor  kid,  and  her  back  is  bad.  That  doll  is 
so  big  she  couldn't  dress  it  without  getting  all  tired  out; 
and  what's  the  use  showing  her  such  dresses,  when  she 
can't  have  any  herself.  She's  got  the  best  she  ever  had, 
and  the  best  she  can  have  right  now;  so  that  ain't  the 


LITTLE  BROTHER  117 

kind  of  a  doll  for  Lily — it's  too  big — and  too — too  glad- 
some!" 

"I  see,"  laughed  Leslie.  "Well  Mickey,  you  show  me 
what  would  be  the  right  size  of  a  doll  for  Lily.  I'll  get 
another,  and  dress  it  as  you  say.  How  would  that 
do?" 

"You  needn't!"  said  Mickey.     "Lily  is  happy  now." 

"But  wouldn't  she  like  a  doll?"  persisted  Leslie.  "I 
never  knew  a  girl  who  didn't  love  a  doll.  Wouldn't  she 
like  a  doll  Mickey?" 

"'Most  to  death  I  'spect,"  said  Mickey.  "I  know  she 
said  she  cried  for  the  one  her  granny  sold,  'til  she  beat  her. 
Yes  I  guess  she'd  like  a  doll;  but  I  can  get  her  one." 

"  But  you  can't  make  white  nighties  for  Lily  to  put  on 
it  to  take  to  bed  with  her,  and  cunning  little  dresses  for 
morning,  and  a  street  dress  for  afternoon,  and  a  party 
dress  for  evening,"  tempted  the  girl. 

"Lily  has  been  on  the  street  twice,  and  she  never  heard 
of  a  party.  Just  nighties  and  the  morning  dress  would  do, 
and  there's  no  use  for  me  to  be  sticking.  If  you  like  to 
give  away  dolls,  Lily  might  as  well  have  one,  for  she'd 
just — I  don't  know  what  she  would  do  about  it,"  con- 
ceded Mickey. 

"All  right,"  said  Leslie.  "I'll  dress  it  this  afternoon, 
and  to-morrow  you  can  come  for  it  in  the  evening  be- 
fore you  go  home.  If  I  am  not  here,  the  package  will  be 
ready.  Take  the  ribbons  now.  She'd  like  them  for  her 
hair." 

"Her  hair's  too  short  for  a  ribbon,"  said  Mickey. 

"Then  a  headband!    This  way!"  said  Leslie. 


ii8  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

She  opened  a  box  and  displayed  a  wonderment  of  ribbon 
bands,  and  bits  of  gay  colour. 

"Gee!"  gasped  Mickey.  "I  couldn't  pick  up  that  much 
brightness  for  her  in  a  year!" 

"You  save  what  you  find  for  her?"  asked  Leslie. 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "You  see  Miss,  things  are 
pretty  plain  where  she  is,  so  all  the  brightness  I  can  take 
i  her  ain't  going  to  hurt  her  eyes.  Thank  you  heaps.  I,s 
there  going  to  be  any  answer  to  the  letter?" 

"Why  I  haven't  read  it  yet!"  cried  the  girl. 

"No!  A-body  can  see  that  some  one  else  is  rustling  for 
your  grub!"  commented  Mickey. 

"That's  so  too,"  laughed  Leslie.     "Darlingold  Daddy!" 

"Just  about  right  is  he?"  queried  Mickey,  interestedly. 

"Just  exactly  right!"  said  Leslie. 

"Gur-ur-and!"  said  Mickey.  "Some  of  them  ain't  so 
well  fixed!  And  he  that  wrote  the  note,  I  guess  he's  about 
as  fine  as  you  make  them,  too!" 

"He's  the  finest  man  I  ever  have  known,  Mickey!"  said 
the  girl  earnestly. 

"Barring  Daddy?"  suggested  Mickey. 

"Not  barring  anybody!"  cried  she.  "Daddy  is  lovely, 
but  he's  Daddy!  Mr.  Bruce  is  different!" 

"No  letter?"  questioned  Mickey,  rising. 

'None!"  said  the  girl.  "Come  to-morrow  night.  You 
are  sure  Lily  is  so  very  little,  Mickey?" 

"You  wouldn't  call  me  big,  would  you?"  he  asked. 
"Well!  I  can  lift  her  with  one  hand!  Such  a  large  doll 
as  that  would  be  tiring  and  confusing.  Please  make  Lily's 
more  like  she's  used  to.  See  ? " 


LITTLE  BROTHER  119 

"Mickey,  I  do  see!"  said  Leslie.  "I  beg  your  pardon. 
Lily's  doll  shall  not  tire  her  or  make  her  discontented 
with  what  she  has.  Thank  you  for  a  good  idea." 

Mickey  returned  to  the  street  shortly  after  noon,  with 
more  in  his  pocket  than  he  usually  earned  in  a  day,  where 
by  expert  work  he  soon  disposed  of  his  last  paper.  He 
bought  the  slate,  then  hurried  home  carrying  it  and  the 
box.  At  the  grocery  he  carefully  selected  food  again. 
Then  he  threw  open  his  door  and  achieved  this: 

"Once  a  little  kid  named  Peaches, 
Swelled  my  heart  until  it  catches. 
If  you  think  I'd  trade  her  for  a  dog, 
Your  think-tank  has  slipped  a  cog!" 

Peaches  laughed,  stretching  her  hands  as  usual.  Mickey 
stooped  for  her  caress,  scattering  the  ribbons  over  her  as 
he  arose.  She  gasped  in  delighted  amazement,  catching 
both  hands  full. 

"Oh!  Mickey!  Where  did  you  ever ?  Mickey,  where 
did  you  get  them?  Mickey,  you  didn't  st ?" 

"You  just  better  choke  on  that,  Miss!"  yelled  Mickey. 

"No  I  didn't  st !  And  I  don't  st !  And  nothing 

I  ever  bring  you  will  be  st !  And  you  needn't  ever 

put  no  more  st's at  me.  See?" 

"Mickey,  I  didn't  mean  that!  Course  I  know  you 
wouldn't!  Course  I  know  you  couldn't!  Mickey,  that's 
the  best  poetry  piece  yet!  Did  you  bring  the  slate?" 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey,  somewhat  mollified,  but  still  in- 
jured. "I  must  have  dropped  it  with  the  banquet!" 

Peaches  pushed  away  the  billow  of  colour,  taking  the 


120  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

slate.  Her  fingers  picking  at  the  string  reminded  Mickey 
of"  sparrow  feet;  but  he  watched  until  she  untied  and  re- 
moved the  paper  which  he  folded  to  lay  away.  She 
picked  up  the  pencil,  meditating. 

"  Mickey ! "  she  said.     "  Make  my  hand  do  a  word ! " 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "What  do  you  want  to  write 
first,  Flowersy-girl  ? " 

Peaches  looked  at  him  reproachfully. 

"Course  there  wouldn't  be  but  one  I'd  want  to  do  first 
of  all,"  she  said.  "Hold  my  hand  tight,  and  big  and 
plain  up  at  the  top  make  it  write,  'Mickey-lovest." 

"Sure,"  said  the  boy  in  a  hushed  voice.  He  gripped  the 
hand,  bending  above  her,  but  suddenly  collapsed,  buried 
his  face  in  her  hair  and  sobbed  until  he  shook. 

Peaches  crouched  down,  lying  rigidly.  She  was  badly 
frightened.  At  last  she  could  endure  it  no  longer. 

"Mickey!"  she  gasped.  "Mickey,  what  did  I  do? 
Mickey,  don't  write  it  if  you  don't  want  to!" 

Mickey  arose,  wiping  his  face  on  the  sheet. 

"You  just  bet  I  want  to  write  that,  Lily!"  he  said.  "I 
never  wanted  to  do  anything  more  in  all  my  life!" 

"Then  why ?"  she  began. 

"Never  you  mind  'why*  Miss!"  said  Mickey. 

Grasping  her  hand,  he  traced  the  words.  Peaches 
looked  at  them  a  long  time,  then  carefully  laid  the  slate 
aside.  She  began  fingering  the  ribbons. 

"Let  me  wash  you,"  said  Mickey,  "and  rub  your  back 
to  rest  you  from  all  this  day,  then  I'll  comb  your  hair 
and  you  pick  the  prettiest  one.  I'll  put  it  on  the  way  she 
showed  me,  so  you'll  be  a  fash'nable  lady." 


LITTLE  BROTHER  121 

"Who  showed  you  Mickey,  and  gave  you  such  pretties  ?" 

"A  girl  I  carried  a  letter  to.  After  you're  bathed  and 
have  had  supper  I'll  tell  you." 

Then  Mickey  began  work.  He  sponged  Peaches, 
rubbed  her  back,  laid  her  on  his  pallet,  putting  fresh  sheets 
on  her  bed  and  carefully  preparing  her  supper.  After  she 
had  eaten  he  again  ran  the  comb  through  her  ringlets, 
telling  her  to  select  the  ribbon  he  should  use. 

"No  you!"  said  Peaches. 

Mickey  squinted,  so  exacting  was  the  work  of  deciding. 
Red  he  discarded  with  one  sweep  against  her  white  cheeks; 
green  went  with  it;  blue  almost  made  him  shudder,  but  a 
soft  warm  pink  pleased  him,  so  Mickey  folded  it  into  the 
bands  in  which  it  had  been  creased  before,  binding  it 
around  Peaches'  head  as  Leslie  had  shown  him,  then  with 
awkward  fingers  did  his  best  on  a  big  bow.  He  crossed  the 
room  and  from  the  wall  picked  a  little  mirror  which  he  held 
before  her  reciting:  "Once  a  little  kid  named  Peaches, 
swelled  my  heart " 

Peaches  took  the  mirror,  studying  the  face  intently. 
She  glanced  over  her  shoulder  so  Mickey  piled  the  pillows 
higher.  Then  she  looked  at  him.  Mickey  bent  to 
scrutinize  her  closely. 

"You're  clean  kid,  clean  as  a  plate!"  he  assured  her. 
"Honest  you  are!  You  needn't  worry  about  that.  I'll 
always  keep  you  washed  clean.  She  was  more  particular 
about  that  than  anything  else.  Don't  you  fret  about 
my  having  a  dirty  girl  around!  You're  clean,  all 
right!" 

Peaches  sighed  as  she  returned  the  mirror.     Mickey  re- 


122  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

placed  it,  laid  the  slate  and  ribbons  in  reach,  washed  the 
dishes,  then  the  sheets  he  had  removed,  and  their  soiled 
clothing.  Peaches  lay  folding  and  unfolding  the  ribbons; 
asking  questions  while  Mickey  worked,  or  with  the  pencil 
tracing  her  best  imitations  of  the  name  on  the  slate.  By 
the  time  he  had  finished  everything  to  be  done  and  drawn  a 
chair  beside  the  bed,  to  see  if  she  had  learned  her  lesson  for 
the  day,  it  was  cool  evening.  She  knew  all  the  words  he 
had  given  her,  so  he  proceeded  to  write  them  on  the  slate. 
Then  told  her  about  the  big  man  named  Douglas  Bruce 
and  the  lovely  girl  named  Leslie  Winton,  also  every  word  he 
could  remember  about  the  house  she  lived  in;  then  he 
added:  "Lily,  do  you  like  to  be  surprised  better  or  do  you 
like  to  think  things  over?" 

"I  don't  know/'  said  Peaches. 

"Well,  before  long,  I'll  know,"  said  Mickey.  "What  I 
was  thinking  was  this:  you  are  going  to  have  something. 
I  just  wondered  whether  you'd  rather  know  it  was  coming, 
or  have  me  walk  in  with  it  and  surprise  you." 

"Mickey,  you  just  walk  in,"  she  decided. 

"All  right!  "said  Mickey. 

"Mickey,  write  on  the  other  side  of  my  slate  what  you 
said  at  the  door  to-night,"  she  coaxed.  "Get  a  little  book 
an'  write  'em  all  down.  Mickey,  I  want  to  learn  all  of 
them,  when  I  c'n  read.  Lemme  tell  you.  You  make  all 
you  c'n  think  of.  Nen  make  more.  An'  make  'em,  an' 
make  'em!  An'  when  you  get  big  as  you're  goin'  to  be, 
make  books  of  'em,  an'  be  a  poet-man  'stead  of  sellin' 
papers." 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.     "I'd  just  as  lief  be  a  poet-man 


LITTLE  BROTHER  123 

as  not!  I'd  write  a  big  one  all  about  a  little  yellow-haired 
girl  named  Lily  Peaches,  and  I'd  put  it  on  the  front  page  of 
the  Herald  I  Honest  I  would!  I'd  like  to!" 

"Gee!"  said  Peaches.     "You  go  on  an'  grow  hel — • 
wope!     I  mean  hurry!     Hurry  an'  grow  up !" 


CHAPTER  VI 
THE  SONG  OF  A  BIRD 

"  "W  ESLIE,"  said  the  voice  of  Mrs.  James  Minturn 
over  the  telephone,  "is  there  any  particular  time 

•  ^  of  the  day  when  that  bird  of  yours  sings  better 
than  at  another?" 

"Morning,  Mrs.  Minturn;  five,  the  latest.  At  that  time 
one  hears  the  full  chorus,  and  sees  the  perfect  beauty. 
Really,  I  wouldn't  ask  you,  if  I  were  not  sure,  positively 
sure,  that  you'd  find  the  trip  worth  while." 

"I'll  be  ready  in  the  morning,  but  that's  an  unearthly 
hour!"  came  the  protest. 

"  It  is  almost  unearthly  sights  and  sounds  to  which  you 
are  going,"  answered  Leslie.  "And  be  sure  you  wear  suit- 
able clothing." 

"What  do  you  call  suitable  clothing?" 

"High  heavy  shoes,"  said  Leslie,  "short  stout 
skirts." 

"As  if  I  had  such  things!"  laughed  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"Let  me  send  you  something  of  mine,"  offered  Leslie. 
"I've  enough  for  two." 

"You're  not  figuring  on  really  going  in  one  of  those  aw- 
ful places,  are  you?"  questioned  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"Surely!"  cried  Leslie.  "The  birds  won't  sing  to  an 
automobile.  And  you  wouldn't  miss  seeing  such  flowers 

124 


THE  SONG  OF  A  BIRD  125 

on  their  stems  as  you  saw  at  Lowry's  for  any  money.  It 
will  be  something  to  tell  your  friends  about." 

"Send  what  I  should  have.  I'd  ride  a  llama  through  a 
sea  of  champagne  for  a  new  experience." 

Mrs.  Minturn  turned  from  the  telephone  with  a  con- 
temptuous sneer  on  her  face;  but  Leslie's  gay  laugh  per- 
sisted in  her  ears.  Restlessly  she  moved  through  her 
rooms  thinking  what  she  might  do  to  divert  herself,  and 
shrinking  from  all  the  tiresome  things  she  had  been  doing 
for  years  until  there  was  not  a  drop  of  the  fresh  juice  of  life 
to  be  extracted  from  them. 

"I'm  going  to  take  a  bath,  go  to  bed  early  and  see  if  I 
can  sleep,"  she  muttered.  "I  don't  know  what  it  is  that 
James  is  contemplating,  but  his  face  haunts  me.  Really, 
if  he  doesn't  be  more  civil,  and  stop  his  morose  glowering 
when  I  do  see  him,  I'll  put  him  or  myself  where  we  won't 
come  in  contact.  He  makes  it  plain  every  day  that  he 
blames  me  about  Elizabeth.  Why  should  he  ?  He  couldn't 
possibly  know  of  the  call  of  that  wild-eyed  reformer.  So 
unfortunate  that  she  should  come  just  at  that  time  too! 
Of  course  hundreds  of  children  die  from  spoiled  milk  every 
summer,  the  rich  as  well  as  the  poor.  I'll  never  get  over 
regretting  that  I  didn't  finish  what  I  started  to  do;  but  I'd 
scarcely  touched  her  in  her  life.  She  always  was  so  pink 
and  warm,  and  that  awful  whiteness  chilled  me  to  the  soul. 
I  wish  I  had  driven,  forced  myself!  Then  I  could  defy 
James  with  more  spirit.  That's  what  I  lack — spirit ! 
Maybe  this  trip  to  the  swamp  will  steady  my  nerves! 
Something  must  be  done  soon,  and  I  believe,  actually  I  be- 
lieve he  is  thinking  of  doing  it !  Pooh !  What  could  he  do  ? 


126  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

There  isn't  an  irregularity  in  my  life  he  can  lay  his  fingers 
on!" 

She  rang  for  her  maid  and  cancelling  two  engagements 
for  the  evening,  went  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep.  When  she 
was  called  early  in  the  morning,  she  gladly  arose,  and  was 
dressed  in  Leslie  Winton's  short  skirts,  a  waist  of  khaki, 
and  high  shoes  near  enough  her  size  to  be  comfortable. 
Her  bath  had  refreshed  her,  a  cup  of  hot  coffee  stimulated 
her,  and  despite  the  lack  of  sleep  she  felt  better  than  she 
had  that  spring  as  she  went  down  to  the  car.  On  the 
threshold  she  met  her  husband.  Evidently  he  had  been 
out  all  night  on  strenuous  business.  His  face  was  hag- 
gard, his  eyes  bloodshot,  while  in  both  hands  he  gripped  a 
small,  square  paper-wrapped  package.  They  looked  at 
each  other  a  second  that  seemed  long  to  both,  then  the 
woman  laughed. 

"Evidently  an  accounting  is  expected,"  she  said. 
"Leslie  Winton  at  the  door  and  the  roll  of  music  I  carry 
should  be  sufficient  to  prove  why  I  am  going  out  at  this 
hour.  You  heard  us  make  the  arrangement.  Thank 
Heaven  I've  no  interest  in  knowing  where  you  have  been, 
or  what  your  precious  package  contains." 

His  expression  and  condition  frightened  her. 

"For  the  weight  of  a  straw  overbalance,"  he  said,  "only 
for  a  hint  that  you  have  a  soul,  I'd  freeze  it  for  all  time 
with  the  contents  of  this  package." 

"A  threat?    You  to  me?"  she  cried  in  amazement. 

"Verily,  Madam,"  he  said.  "I  wish  you  all  the  joy  of 
the  birds  and  the  flowers  this  morning." 

"You've  gone  mad!"  she  cried. 


THE  SONG  OF  A  BIRD  127 

"Contrarily,  I  have  come  to  my  senses  after  years  of  in- 
sanity," he  said.  "I  will  see  you  when  you  return." 

She  stood  bewildered,  watching  him  go  down  the  hall  and 
enter  his  library.  That  and  his  sleeping  room  were  the  only 
places  in  the  house  sacred  to  him.  No  one  entered,  no  one, 
not  even  the  incorrigible  children,  touched  anything  there. 
She  slowly  went  to  the  car,  trying  to  rally  to  Leslie's  greet- 
ing, struggling  to  fix  her  mind  on  anything  pointed  out  to 
her  as  something  she  might  enjoy. 

At  last  she  said:  "I  don't  know  what  is  the  matter  with 
me  Leslie.  James  is  planning  something,  I  haven't  an 
idea  what;  but  his  grim,  reproachful  face  is  slowly  driving 
me  wild.  I'm  getting  so  I  can't  sleep.  You  saw  him 
come  home  as  I  left.  He  talked  positively  crazy,  as  if  he 
had  the  crack  of  doom  in  his  hands  and  were  prepared  to 
crack  it.  He  said  he  'would  see  me  when  I  came  back.' 
Indeed  he  will — to  his  sorrow!  He  will  be  as  he  used  to  be, 
or  we  will  separate.  The  idea,  with  scarcely  a  cent  to  his 
name,  of  him  undertaking  to  dictate  to  me,  to  me  I  Do  you 
blame  me  Leslie?  You  heard  him  the  other  day!  You 
know  how  he  insulted  me ! " 

Leslie  leaned  forward,  laying  a  firm  hand  in  a  grip  on 
Mrs.  Minturn's  arm. 

"  Since  you  ask  me,"  she  said,  "  I  will  answer.  If  you 
find  life  with  Mr.  Minturn  insufferable,  an  agony  to  both 
of  you,  I  would  separate,  and  speedily.  If  it  has  come  to 
the  place  where  you  can't  see  each  other  or  speak  without 
falling  into  unpleasantness,  then  I'd  keep  apart." 

"That  is  exactly  the  case!"  cried  Mrs.  Minturn.  "Oh 
Leslie,  I  am  so  glad  you  agree  with  me!" 


128  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

**But  I  haven't  finished,"  said  Leslie,  "you  interrupted 
me  in  the  middle.  If  you  are  absolutely  sure  you  can't  go 
on  peaceably,  I  would  stop;  but  if  I  once  had  loved  a  man 
enough  to  give  my  life  and  my  happiness  into  his  keeping, 
to  make  him  the  father  of  my  children,  I  would  not  sepa- 
rate from  him,  until  I  had  exhausted  every  resource,  to  see 
if  I  couldn't  in  some  possible  way  end  with  credit." . 

"If  you  had  been  through  what  I  have,"  said  Mrs.  Min- 
turn,  "you  wouldn't  endure  it  any  longer." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Leslie.  "But  you  see  dear  Mrs.  Min- 
turn,  I  am  handicapped  by  not  knowing  what  you  have 
been  through.  To  your  world  you  appear  to  be  a  woman 
of  great  wealth,  who  does  exactly  as  she  pleases  and  pays 
her  own  bills.  You  seem  to  have  unlimited  money,  power, 
position,  leisure  for  anything  you  fancy.  I'll  wager  you 
don't  know  the  names  of  half  the  servants  in  your  house; 
a  skillful  housekeeper  takes  the  responsibility  off  your 
hands.  You  never  are  seen  in  public  with  your  children; 
competent  nurses  care  for  them.  You  don't  appear  with 
your  husband  any  more;  yet  he  is  a  man  of  fine  brain,  un- 
impeachable character,  who  handles  big  affairs  for  other 
men,  and  father  says  he  believes  his  bank  account  would 
surprise  you.  He  has  been  in  business  for  years;  surely  all 
he  makes  doesn't  go  to  other  men." 

"You  know  I  never  thought  of  that!"  cried  Mrs.  Min- 
turn.  "He  had  nothing  to  begin  on  and  I've  always  kept 
our  establishment;  he's  never  paid  for  more  than  his  cloth- 
ing. Do  you  suppose  that  he  has  made  money?" 

"I  know  that  he  has!"  said  Leslie.  "Not  so  fast  as  he 
might!  Not  so  much  as  he  could,  for  he  is  incorruptible; 


THE  SONG  OF  A  BIRD  129 

but  money,  yes!  He  is  a  powerful  man,  not  only  in  the 
city,  but  all  over  the  state.  Some  of  these  days  you're 
going  to  wake  up  to  find  him  a  Senator,  or  Governor. 
You  seem  to  be  the  only  person  who  doesn't  know  it,  or 
who  doesn't  care  if  you  do.  But  when  it  comes  about,  as 
it  will,  you'll  be  so  proud  of  him!  Dear  Mrs.  Minturn, 
please,  please  go  slowly!  Don't,  oh  don't  let  anything 
happen  that  will  make  a  big  regret  for  both." 

"Leslie,  where  did  you  get  all  this?"  asked  Mrs.  Min- 
turn  in  tones  of  mingled  interest  and  surprise. 

"From  my  father!"  answered  Leslie.  "And  from 
Douglas  Bruce.  Douglas'  office  is  across  the  hall  from 
Mr.  Minturn's;  they  meet  daily,  and  from  the  first  they 
have  been  friends.  Mr.  Minturn  took  Douglas  to  his 
clubs,  introduced  him  and  helped  him  into  business,  so 
often  they  work  together.  Why  only  yesterday  Douglas 
came  to  me  filled  with  delight.  Mr.  Minturn  secured  an 
appointment  for  him  to  make  an  investigation  for  the  city 
which  will  be  a  great  help  to  Douglas.  It  will  bring  him  in 
contact  with  prominent  men,  give  him  big  work  and  a 
sample  of  how  mercenary  I  am — it  will  bring  him  big  pay 
and  he  knows  how  to  use  the  money  in  a  big  way.  Douglas 
knows  Mr.  Minturn  so  well,  and  respects  him  so  highly, 
yet  no  one  can  know  him  as  you  do " 

"That  is  quite  true!  I  live  with  him!  I  know  the 
real  man!"  cried  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"How  mean  of  you!"  laughed  Leslie,  "to  distort  my 
reasoning  like  that!  I  don't  ask  you  to  think  up  all  the 
little  things  that  have  massed  into  one  big  grievance  against 
him;  I  mean  stop  that  for  to-day,  out  here  in  the  country 


1 30  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

where  everything  is  so  lovely,  and  go  back  where  I 
am." 

"He  surely  has  an  advocate!  Leslie,  when  did  you  start 
making  an  especial  study  of  Mr.  Minturn?" 

"When  Douglas  Bruce  began  speaking  to  me  so  fre- 
quently of  him!"  answered  Leslie.  "Then  I  commenced 
to  watch  him  and  to  listen  to  what  people  were  saying 
about  him,  and  to  ask  Daddy." 

"It's  very  funny  that  every  one  seems  so  well  in- 
formed and  so  enthusiastic  just  at  the  time  when  I  feel 
that  life  is  unendurable  with  him,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn. 
"I  can't  understand  it!" 

"Mrs.  Minturn,  try,  oh  do  try  to  get  my  viewpoint  be- 
fore you  do  anything  irreparable,"  begged  Leslie.  "Away 
up  here  in  the  woods  let's  think  it  out!  Let's  discuss 
James  Minturn  in  every  phase  of  his  nature  and  see  if  the 
big  manly  part  doesn't  far  outweigh  the  little  irritations. 
Let's  see  if  you  can't  possibly  go  to  the  meeting  he  wants 
when  we  return  with  a  balance  struck  in  his  favour.  A 
divorced  woman  is  always — well,  it's  disagreeable.  Alone 
you'd  feel  stranded.  Attempt  marrying  again,  where 
would  you  find  a  man  with  half  the  points  that  count  for 
good,  to  replace  him?  In  after  years  when  your  children 
realize  the  man  he  is,  how  are  you  going  to  explain  to 
them  why  you  couldn't  live  with  him?" 

"From  your  rush  of  words,  it  is  evident  you  have  your 
arguments  at  hand,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn.  "You've  been 
thinking  more  about  my  affairs  than  I  ever  did.  You 
bring  up  points  I  never  have  thought  of;  you  make  me 
see  things  that  would  not  have  occurred  to  me;  yet  as  you 


THE  SONG  OF  A  BIRD  131 

put  them,  they  have  awful  force.  You  haven't  exactly 
said  it,  but  what  you  mean  is  that  you  believe  me  in  the 
wrong;  so  do  all  my  friends.  All  of  you  sympathize  with 
Mr.  Minturn!  All  of  you  think  him  a  big  man  worthy  of 
every  consideration  and  me  deserving  none." 

"You're  putting  that  too  strong,"  retorted  Leslie. 
"You  are  right  about  Mr.  Minturn;  but  I  won't  admit  that 
I  find  you  'worthy  of  no  consideration  at  all,'  or  I  wouldn't 
be  imploring  you  to  give  yourself  a  chance  at  happiness." 

"  'Give  myself  a  chance  at  happiness !' ' 

"Dear  Mrs.  Minturn,  yes!"  said  Leslie.  "All  your  life, 
so  far,  you  have  lived  absolutely  for  yourself;  for  your  per- 
sonal pleasure.  Has  happiness  resulted?" 

"Happiness?"  cried  Mrs.  Minturn  in  amazement. 
"You  little  fool!  With  my  husband  practically  a  mad- 
man, my  children  incorrigible,  my  nerves  on  edge  until  I 
can't  sleep,  because  one  thought  comes  over  and  over." 

"Well  you  achieved  it  in  society!"  said  Leslie.  "It's 
the  result  of  doing  exactly  what  you  wanted  to!  You 
can't  say  James  Minturn  was  to  blame  for  what  you  had 
the  money  and  the  desire  to  do.  You  can't  think  your 
babies  wouldn't  have  preferred  their  mother  to  the  nurses 
and  governesses  they  have  had " 

"If  you  say  another  word  about  that  I'll  jump  from 
the  car  and  break  my  neck,"  threatened  Mrs.  Minturn. 
"No  one  sympathizes  with  me!" 

"That  is  untrue,"  said  Leslie.  "I  care,  or  I  wouldn't 
be  doing  what  I  am  now.  And  as  for  sympathy,  I  haven't 
a  doubt  but  every  woman  of  your  especial  set  will  weep 
tears  of  condolence  with  you,  if  you'll  tell  them  what  you 


i32  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

have  me.  There  is  Mrs.  Clinton  and  Mrs.  Farley,  and  a 
<iozen  women  among  your  dearest  friends  who  have  di- 
vorced their  husbands,  and  are  free  lances  or  remarried; 
you  can  have  friends  enough  to  suit  you  in  any  event." 

"Fools!  Shallow-pated  fools!"  cried  Mrs.  Minturn. 
""They  never  read  anything!  Their  idea  of  any  art  would 
convulse  you!  They  don't  know  a  note  of  real  music!" 

"But  they  are  your  best  friends,"  interposed  Leslie. 
*'What  then  is  their  attraction?" 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  know!"  said  Mrs.  Minturn.  "I  sup- 
pose it's  unlimited  means  to  follow  any  fad  or  fancy,  to 
live  extravagantly  as  they  choose,  to  dress  faultlessly  as 
they  have  taste,  freedom  to  go  as  they  please!  Oh  they  do 
have  a  good  time!" 

"Are  you  sure  that  they  didn't  go  through  the  same 
*good  time'  you  are  having  right  now,  before  they  lost 
the  men  they  loved  and  married,  and  then  became  mothers 
who  later  deliberately  orphaned  their  own  children?" 

"Leslie,  for  God's  sake  where  did  you  learn  it?"  cried 
Mrs.  Minturn.  "How  can  you  hit  like  that?  You  make 
me  feel  like  a— like  a !  Oh  Lord ! " 

"Don't  let's  talk  any  more,  Mrs.  Minturn,"  suggested 
Leslie.  "You  know  what  all  refined,  home-loving  people 
think.  You  know  society  and  what  it  has  to  offer.  You're 
making  yourself  unhappy,  while  I  am  helping  you,  but 
if  some  one  doesn't  stop  you,  you  may  lose  the  love  of  a 
good  man,  the  respect  of  the  people  worth  while,  and 
later  of  your  own  children!  See,  here  is  the  swamp  and 
this  is  as  close  as  we  can  go  with  the  car." 

"Is  this  where  you  found  the  flowers  for  your  basket?" 


THE  SONG  OF  A  BIRD  133 

"Yes,"  said  Leslie. 

"No  snakes,  no  quicksands?" 

"Snakes  don't  like  this  kind  of  moss,"  answered  Leslie; 
"this  is  an  old  lake  bed  grown  up  with  tamaracks  and  the 
bog  of  a  thousand  years." 

"Looks  as  if  ten  thousand  might  come  closer!" 

"Were  you  ever  in  such  a  place?"  asked  Leslie. 

"Never!"  said  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"Well  to  do  this  to  perfection,"  said  Leslie,  "we  should 
go  far  enough  for  you  to  see  the  home  life  of  our  rarest  wild 
flowers  and  to  get  the  music  full  effect.  We  must  look  for 
a  high  place  to  spread  this  waterproof  sheet  I  have  brought 
along,  then  nestle  down  and  keep  still.  The  birds  will  see 
us  going  in,  but  if  we  make  ourselves  inconspicuous,  they 
will  soon  forget  us.  Have  you  the  score  ? " 

"Yes,"  answered  Mrs.  Minturn.     "Go  ahead!" 

Leslie  had  not  expected  Mrs.  Minturn's  calm  tones  and 
placid  acceptance  of  the  swamp.  The  girl  sent  one  search- 
ing look  the  woman's  way,  then  came  enlightenment.  This 
was  a  stunt.  Mrs.  Minturn  had  been  doing  stunts  in  the 
hope  of  new  sensations  all  her  life.  What  others  could 
do,  she  could,  if  she  chose;  in  this  instance  she  chose  to 
penetrate  a  tamarack  swamp  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
to  listen  to  the  notes  of  a  bird. 

"I'll  select  the  highest  places  and  go  as  nearly  where  we 
were  as  I  can,"  said  Leslie.  "If  you  step  in  my  tracks 
you'll  be  all  right." 

"Why,  you're  not  afraid,  are  you?"  asked  Mrs.  Min- 
turn. 

"Not  in  the  least,"  said  Leslie.     "Are  you ? '* 


i34  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"No!"  said  Mrs.  T'.iintum.  "One  strikes  almost  every- 
thing motoring  through  the  country,  in  the  mountains  or 
at  sea,  and  travelling.  This  looks  interesting.  How  deep 
could  one  sink  anyway  ? " 

"  Deeply  enough  to  satisfy  you,"  laughed  Leslie.  "  Come 
quietly  now!" 

Grasping  the  score  she  carried,  Mrs.  Minturn  uncon- 
cernedly plunged  after  Leslie.  Purposely  the  girl  went 
slowly,  stooping  beneath  branches,  skirting  too  wet  places, 
slipping  over  the  high  hummocks,  turning  to  indicate  by 
gesture  a  moss  bed,  a  flower,  or  glancing  upward  to  try  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  some  entrancing  musician. 

Once  Leslie  turned  to  look  back  and  saw  Mrs.  Minturn 
on  her  knees  separating  the  silvery  green  moss  heads  and 
thrusting  her  hand  deeply  to  learn  the  length  of  the  roots. 
She  noticed  the  lady's  absorbed  face,  and  the  wet  patches 
spreading  around  her  knees.  Leslie  fancied  she  could  see 
Mrs.  Minturn  entering  the  next  gathering  of  her  friends, 
smiling  faintly  and  crying:  "Dear  people,  I've  had  a  per- 
fectly new  experience!"  She  could  hear  every  tone  of 
Mrs.  Minturn's  voice  saying:  "Ferns  as  luxuriant  as  any- 
thing in  Florida!  Moss  beds  several  feet  deep.  A  hun- 
dred birds  singing,  and  all  before  sunrise,  my  dears!" 

When  Mrs.  Minturn  arose  Leslie  went  forward  slowly 
until  she  reached  the  moccasin  flowers,  but  remembering, 
she  did  not  stop.  The  woman  did.  She  stooped  and 
Leslie  winced  as  she  snapped  one  to  examine  it  critically. 
She  held  it  up  in  the  gray  light,  turning  it. 

"  Did  you  ever  see — little  Elizabeth  ? "  she  asked. 

"Yes,"  said  Leslie. 


THE  SONG  OF  A  BIRD  135 

"Do  you  think ?"     She  stopped  abruptly. 

"That  one  is  too  deep,"  said  Leslie.  "The  colour  he 
saw  was  on  a  freshly  opened  one  like  that." 

She  pointed  to  a  paler  moccasin  of  exquisite  pink  with 
red  lavender  veining.  Mrs.  Minturn  assented. 

"He  can't  forget  anything,"  she  said,  "or  let  any  one 
else.  He  always  will  keep  harping." 

"We  were  peculiarly  unfortunate  that  day,"  said  Leslie. 
"He  really  had  no  intention  of  saying  anything,  if  he 
hadn't  been  forced." 

"Oh  he  doesn't  require  forcing,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn. 
"He's  always  at  the  overflow  point  about  her." 

"Perhaps  he  was  very  fond  of  her,"  suggested  Leslie. 

"He  was  perfectly  foolish  about  her,"  said  Mrs.  Min- 
turn impatiently.  "I  lost  a  nurse  or  two  through  his  in- 
terference. When  I  got  such  a  treasure  as  Lucette  I  just 
told  her  to  take  complete  charge,  make  him  attend  his 
own  affairs,  and  not  try  being  a  nursery  maid.  It  really 
isn't  done  these  days!" 

Leslie  closed  her  lips,  moving  forward  until  she  reached 
the  space  where  the  ragged  boys  and  the  fringed  girls 
floated  their  white  banners,  where  lacy  yellow  and  laven- 
der blooms  caressed  each  other,  there  on  the  highest  place 
she  could  select,  across  a  moss-covered  log,  she  spread  the 
waterproof  sheet,  and  seating  herself,  motioned  Mrs.  Min- 
turn to  do  the  same.  She  reached  for  the  music  and  open- 
ing it  ran  over  the  score.  Her  finger  paused  on  the  notes 
she  had  whistled,  while  with  eager  face  she  sat  waiting. 

Mrs.  Minturn  dropped  into  an  attitude  of  tense  listen- 
ing. The  sun  began  dissipating  the  gray  mists  and 


136  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

heightening  the  exquisite  tints  on  all  sides.  Every  green 
imaginable  was  there  from  palest  silver  to  the  deepest, 
darkest  shades;  all  dew  wet,  rankly  growing,  gold  tinted 
and  showing  clearer  each  minute.  Gradually  Mrs.  Min- 
turn  relaxed,  made  herself  comfortable  as  possible,  then 
turned  to  the  orchids  of.  the  open  space.  The  colour 
flushed  and  faded  on  her  tired  face,  she  nervously  rolled 
the  moccasin  stem  in  her  fingers,  or  looked  long  at  the 
delicate  flower.  She  was  thinking  so  intently  that  Leslie 
saw  she  was  neither  seeing  the  swamp,  nor  hearing  the  birds. 

It  was  then  that  a  little  gray  singer  straying  through 
the  tamaracks  sent  a  wireless  to  his  mate  in  the  bushes  of 
borderland,  in  which  he  wished  to  convey  to  her  all 
there  was  in  his  heart  about  the  wonders  of  spring,  the 
joy  of  mating,  the  love  of  her,  and  their  nest.  He  waited 
a  second,  then  tucking  his  tail,  swelled  his  throat,  and  made 
sure  he  had  done  his  best. 

At  the  first  measure,  Leslie  thrust  the  sheet  before  Mrs. 
Minturn,  pointing  to  the  place.  Instantly  the  woman 
scanned  the  score,  then  leaned  forward  listening.  As  the 
bird  flew,  Leslie  faced  Mrs.  Minturn  with  questioning 
eyes.  She  cried  softly:  "He  did  it!  Perfectly!  If  I 
hadn't  heard  I  never  would  have  believed." 

"There  is  another  that  can  do  this  from  Verdi's  Travi- 
ata."  Leslie  whistled  the  notes.  "Get  the  strain  in  your 
mind,  we  may  hear  him  also." 

Again  they  waited.  Leslie  realized  that  Mrs.  Minturn 
was  not  listening,  and  would  have  to  be  recalled  if  the  bird 
sang.  Leslie  sat  silent.  The  same  bird  sang,  and  others, 
but  to  the  girl  had  come  the  intuition  that  Mrs.  Minturn 


THE  SONG  OF  A  BIRD  137 

was  having  her  hour  in  the  garden,  so  wisely  she  remained 
silent.  After  an  interminable  time  she  arose,  making  her 
way  forward  as  far  as  she  could  penetrate  and  still  see  the 
figure  of  the  woman,  then  hunting  an  old  stump,  climbed 
upon  it  and  did  some  thinking  herself. 

At  last  she  returned  to  the  motionless  figure.  Mrs. 
Minturn  was  leaning  against  the  tamarack's  scraggy 
trunk,  her  head  resting  on  a  branch,  lightly  sleeping.  A 
rivulet  staining  her  cheeks  from  each  eye  showed  where 
slow  tears  had  slipped  from  under  her  closed  lids.  Leslie's 
heart  ached  with  pity.  She  thought  she  never  had  seen 
any  one  seem  so  sad,  so  alone,  so  punished  for  sins  of  in- 
heritance and  rearing.  She  sat  beside  Mrs.  Minturn,  wait- 
ing until  she  awakened. 

"Why  I  must  have  fallen  asleep!"  she  cried. 

"For  a  minute,"  said  Leslie. 

"But  I  feel  as  if  I  had  rested  soundly  a  whole  night," 
said  Mrs.  Minturn.  "I'm  so  refreshed.  And  there  goes 
that  bird  again.  Verdi  to  take  his  notes!  Who  ever 
would  have  thought  of  it  ?  Leslie,  did  you  bring  any  lunch  ? 
I'm  famished." 

"We  must  go  back  to  the  car,"  said  Leslie. 

They  spread  the  waterproof  sheet  on  the  ground  where 
it  would  be  bordered  with  daintily  traced  partridge  berry, 
and  white-lined  plantain  leaves,  and  sitting  on  it  ate  their 
lunch.  Leslie  did  what  she  could  to  interest  Mrs.  Min- 
turn and  cheer  her,  but  at  last  that  lady  said :  "Thank  you 
dear,  you  are  very  good  to  me;  but  you  can't  entertain  me 
to-day.  Some  other  time  we'll  come  back  and  bring  the 
scores  you  suggest,  and  see  what  we  can  really  hear  from 


i38  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

these  birds.  But  to-day,  I've  got  the  battle  of  my  life  to 
fight.  Something  is  coming;  I  should  be  in  a  measure  pre- 
pared, and  as  I  don't  know  what  to  expect,  it  takes  all  the 
brains  I  have  to  figure  things  out." 

"You  don't  know,  Mrs.  Minturn?"  asked  Leslie. 

"No,"  she  said  wearily.  "I  know  James  hates  the  life  I 
lead;  he  thinks  my  time  wasted.  I  know  he's  a  disap- 
pointed man,  because  he  thought  when  he  married  me  he 
could  cut  me  out  of  everything  worth  while  in  the  world, 
and  set  me  to  waiting  on  him,  and  nursing  his  children. 
Every  single  thing  I  have  done  since,  or  wanted  or  had,  has 
been  a  disappointment  to  him.  I  know  now  he  never  would 
have  married  me,  if  he  hadn't  figured  he  was  going  to  make 
me  over;  shape  me  and  my  life  to  suit  his  whims,  and 
throw  away  my  money  to  please  his  fancies.  He's  been 
utterly  discontented  since  Elizabeth  was  born.  Why 
Leslie,  we  haven't  lived  together  since  then.  He  said  if  I 
were  going  to  persist  in  bringing  'orphans'  into  the  world, 
babies  I  wouldn't  mother  myself,  or  wouldn't  allow  him  to 
father/there  would  be  no  more  children.  I  laughed  at  him, 
because  I  didn't  think  he  meant  it;  but  he  did,  so  that 
ended  even  a  semblance  of  content.  Half  the  time  I  don't 
know  where  he  is,  or  what  he  is  doing;  he  seldom  knows 
where  I  am;,  if  we  appear  together  it  is  accidental;  I 
thought  I  had  my  mind  made  up  to  leave  him,  and  soon; 
but  what  you  say,  coupled  with  doubts  I  had  myself,  have 
set  me  to  thinking,  till  I  don't  know.  I  hate  a  scandal. 
You  know  how  careful  I  always  have  been.  AH  my 
closest  friends  have  jeered  me  for  a  prude;  there  isn't  a 
flaw  he  can  find,  there  has  been  none!  Absolutely  none!" 


THE  SONG  OF  A  BIRD  139 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Leslie.     "Every  one  knows  that." 

"Leslie,  you  don't  know,  do  you?"  asked  Mrs.  Minturn. 
"He  didn't  say  anything  to  Bruce,  did  he?" 

"You  want  an  honest  answer?"  questioned  Leslie. 

"Of  course  I  do!"  cried  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"Douglas  did  tell  me  in  connection  with  Mr.  Minturn 
joining  the  Brotherhood  and  taking  a  gamin  from  the 
streets  into  his  office,  that  he  said  he  was  scarcely  allowed 
to  see  his  own  sons,  not  to  exercise  the  slightest  control,  so 
he  was  going  to  try  his  theories  on  a  Little  Brother.  But 
Douglas  wouldn't  mention  it,  only  to  me,  and  of  course  I 
wouldn't  repeat  it  to  any  one.  Mr.  Minturn  seemed  to 
feel  that  Douglas  thought  it  peculiar  for  a  man  having 
sons,  to  take  so  much  pains  with  a  newsboy;  they're  great 
friends,  so  he  said  that  much  to  Bruce." 

"'He  said  that  much '"  scoffed  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"Well,  even  so,  that  is  very  little  compared  with  what 
you've  said  about  him  to  me,"  retorted  Leslie.  "You 
shouldn't  complain  on  that  score." 

"I  suppose,  in  your  eyes,  I  shouldn't  complain  about 
anything,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"A  world  of  things,  Mrs.  Minturn,  but  not  the  ones  you 
do,"  said  Leslie. 

"Oh! "cried  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"I  think  your  grievance  is  that  you  were  born  in,  and 
reared  for,  society,"  said  Leslie,  "and  in  your  extremity  it 
has  failed  you.  I  believe  I  can  give  you  more  help  to-day 
than  any  woman  of  your  age  and  intimate  association." 

"That's  true  Leslie,  quite  true!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Min- 
turn eagerly.  "And  I  need  help!  Oh  I  do!" 


i4o  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"  You  poor  soul,  you ! "  comforted  Leslie.  " Turn  where 
you  belong!  Turn  to  your  own  blood!' 

"•My  mother  would  jeer  me  for  a  weakling,"  said  Mrs. 
Minturn.  "  She  has  urged  me  to  divorce  James,  ever  since 
Llizabeth  was  born." 

"I  didn't  mean  your  mother,"  said  Leslie.  "I  meant 
closer  relatives,  I  meant  your  husband  and  sons." 

"My  husband  would  probably  tell  me  he  had  lost  all  re- 
spect for  me,  while  my  sons  would  very  likely  pull  my  hair 
and  kick  my  shins  if  I  knelt  to  them  for  sympathy,"  said 
Mrs.  Minturn.  "They  are  perfect  little  animals." 

"Oh  Mrs.  Minturn!"  cried  Leslie  amazed.  "Then  you 
simply  must  take  them  in  charge  and  save  them;  they  are 
so  fine  looking,  while  you're  their  mother,  you  are!" 

"It  means  giving  up  life  as  I  have  known  it  always,  just 
about  everything!"  said  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"Look  at  yourself  now!"  said  Leslie.  "I  should  think 
you  would  be  glad  to  give  up  your  present  state." 

"Leslie,  do  you  think  it  wrong  to  gather  those  orchids?" 

"I  think  it  unpardonable  sin  to  exterminate  them,"  an- 
swered Leslie.  "  If  you  have  any  reason  for  wanting  a  few, 
and  merely  gather  the  flowers,  leaving  the  roots  to  spread 
and  bloom  another  year,  I  should  say  take  them." 

"Will  you  wait  in  the  car  until  I  go  back?"  she  asked. 

"I  will  go  with  you,"  offered  Leslie. 

"  But  I  wish  to  be  alone,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"You're  not  afraid?     You  won't  become  lost?" 

"I  am  not  afraid,  and  I  will  not  lose  myself,"  said  Mrs, 
Minturn.  "Must  I  hurry?" 

"Take  all  the  time  you  want,"  said  Leslie. 


THE  SONG  OF  A  BIRD  141 

It  was  mid-afternoon  when  she  returned,  her  hands 
filled  with  a  dripping  moss  ball  in  which  she  had  embedded 
the  stems  of  a  mass  of  feathery  pink-fringed  orchids.  Her 
face  was  flushed  with  tears,  but  her  eyes  were  bright,  her 
step  quick  and  alert. 

"Leslie,  what  do  you  think  I  am  going  to  do?"  she 
cried.  Then  without  awaiting  a  reply:  "I'm  going  to  ask 
James  to  go  with  me  to  take  these  to  Elizabeth,  to  beg  him 
to  forgive  my  neglect  of  her;  to  pledge  the  rest  of  my  life 
to  him  and  the  boys." 

Leslie  caught  Mrs.  Minturn  in  her  arms.  "Oh  you 
darling!"  she  exulted.  "Oh  you  brave,  wonderful  girl!'* 

"After  all,  it's  no  more  than  fair,"  Mrs.  Minturn  said. 
"I  have  had  everything  my  way  since  we  were  married. 
And  I  did  love  James.  He's  the  only  man  I  ever  have 
known  that  I  really  wanted.  Leslie,  he  will  forgive  me  and 
start  over,  won't  he?" 

"He'll  be  at  your  feet!"  cried  Leslie. 

"Fortunately,  I  have  decided  to  be  at  his,"  said  Mrs. 
Minturn.  "I've  reached  the  place  where  I  will  even  wipe 
James  Jr.'s  nose  and  dress  Malcolm,  and  fix  James'  studs 
if  it  will  help  me  to  sleep,  and  have  only  a  tinge  of  what  you 
seem  to  be  running  over  with.  Leslie,  you  are  the  most 
joyous  soul  I  know." 

"You  see,  I  never  had  to  think  about  myself,"  said 
Leslie.  "Daddy  always  thought  for  me,  so  there  was 
nothing  left  for  me  to  spend  my  time  and  thought  on  but 
him.  It  was  a  beautiful  arrangement." 

"Leslie,  this  is  your  car,  but  won't  you  dear,  drive  fast!" 
begged  Mrs.  Minturn. 


J42  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Of  course  Nellie!"  exclaimed  the  girl. 

"  Leslie,  will  you  stand  by  me,  and  show  me  the  way,  all 
you  can?"  asked  Mrs.  Minturn  anxiously.  "I'll  lose 
every  friend  I  have  got;  my  house  must  be  torn  down  and 
built  up  from  the  basement  on  a  new  system,  as  to  man- 
agement; and  I  haven't  an  idea  how  to  do  it.  Oh  I  hope 
James  will  know,  and  can  help  me." 

"You  may  be  sure  James  will  know  and  can  help  you," 
comforted  Leslie.  "You'll  be  leaving  for  the  seashore  in 
a  few  days;  install  a  complete  new  retinue,  and  begin  all 
fresh.  Half  the  servants  you  keep,  really  competent  and 
interested  in  their  work,  would  make  you  far  more  com- 
fortable than  you  are  now." 

"Yes,  I  think  that  too!"  agreed  Mrs.  Minturn  eagerly. 
"Some  way  I  feel  as  if  I  were  turning  against  Lucette.  I 
never  want  to  see  her  again,  after  I  tell  her  to  go;  not  that  I 
know  what  I  shall  do  without  her.  The  boys  will  prob- 
ably burn  down  the  house,  and  where  I'll  find  a  woman 
who  will  tolerate  them,  I  don't  know." 

"Employ  a  man  until  you  get  control,"  suggested  Les- 
lie. "They  are  both  old  enough;  hire  a  man,  and  explain 
all  you  want  to  him.  They'd  be  afraid  of  a  man." 

"Afraid!"  cried  Mrs.  Minturn.  "They  are  afraid  of 
Lucette!  I  can't  understand  it.  I  wonder  if  James 

"  Poor  James ! "  laughed  Leslie.  "  Honestly  Nellie,  don't 
impose  too  much  of  your — your  work  on  him.  Undertake 
it  yourself.  Show  him  what  a  woman  you  are." 

"Great  Heavens,  Leslie,  you  don't  know  what  you  are 
saying!"  cried  Mrs.  Minturn.  "My  only  hope  lies  in  de- 
ceiving him.  If  I  showed  him  the  woman  I  am,  as  I  saw 


THE  SONG  OF  A  BIRD  143 

myself  back  there  in  that  swamp  an  hour  ago,  he'd  take 
one  look,  and  strangle  me  for  the  public  good." 

"How  ridiculous!"  exclaimed  Leslie.  "Why  must  a 
woman  always  rush  from  one  extreme  to  the  other? 
Choose  a  middle  course  and  keep  it." 

"That's  what  I  am  telling  you  I  must  do,"  said  Mrs. 
Minturn.  "Leslie,  it  is  wonderful  how  I  feel.  I'm  almost 
flying.  Do  you  honestly  think  it  is  possible  that  there  is 
going  to  be  something  new,  something  interesting,  some- 
thing really  worth  while  in  the  world  for  me?" 

"I  know  it,"  said  Leslie.  "Such  interest,  such  novelty, 
such  joy  as  you  never  have  experienced!" 

With  that  hope  in  her  heart,  her  eyes  filled  with  excite- 
ment, Nellie  Minturn  rang  her  bell,  ran  past  her  footman 
and  hurried  up  the  stairs.  She  laid  her  flowers  on  a  table, 
summoned  her  maid,  then  began  throwing  off  her  hat  and 
outer  clothing. 

"Do  you  know  if  Mr.  Minturn  is  here?" 

"Yes.     He "  began  the  maid. 

"Never  mind  what '  he.'  Get  out  the  prettiest,  simplest 
dress  I  own,  and  the  most  becoming,"  she  ordered.  "Be 
quick!  Can't  you  see  I'm  in  a  hurry?" 

"Mrs.  Minturn,  I  think  you  will  thank  me  for  telling 
you  there  is  an  awful  row  in  the  library,"  said  the  maid. 

"  'An  awful  row  ? ' '      Mrs.  Minturn  paused. 

"Yes.  I  think  they  are  killing  Lucette,"  explained  the 
maid.  "  She's  shrieked  bloody  murder  two  or  three  times." 

"  Who  ?    What  do  you  mean  ? "  demanded  Mrs.  Minturn. 

She  slipped  on  the  bathrobe  she  had  picked  up,  and 
stood  holding  it  together,  gazing  at  the  maid. 


i44  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Mr.  Minturn  came  with  two  men.  One  was  a  park 
policeman  we  know.  They  went  into  the  library  and  sent 
for  Lucette.  There  she  goes  again!" 

"Is  there  any  way  I  could  see,  could  hear,  what  is  going 
on,  without  being  seen  ? " 

"There's  a  door  to  the  den  from  the  back  hall,  and  that 
leads  to  the  library-,"  suggested  the  maid.  "You'd  have  a 
chance  there." 

"Show  me!     Help  me!"  begged  Mrs.  Minturn. 

As  they  passed  the  table  the  orchids  hanging  over  the 
edge  caught  on  the  trailing  robe  and  started  to  fall.  Mrs. 
Minturn  paused  to  push  them  back,  then  studied  the 
flowers  an  instant,  and  catching  up  the  bunch  carried 
it  along.  She  closed  the  den  door  after  her  without  a 
sound,  and  creeping  beside  the  wall,  hid  behind  the  door 
curtain  and  peeped  into  the  library.  There  were  two  men 
who  evidently  were  a  detective  and  a  policeman.  She 
saw  Lucette  backed  against  the  wall,  her  hands  clenched, 
her  eyes  wild  with  fear.  She  saw  her  husband's  back,  and 
on  the  table  beside  him  a  little  box,  open,  its  wrappings 
near,  its  contents  terrifying  to  the  woman 

"To  sum  up  then,"  said  Mr.  Minturn  in  tones  she  never 
before  had  heard :  "  I  can  put  on  oath  this  man,  who  will  be 
forced  to  tell  what  he  witnessed  or  be  impeached  by  others 
who  saw  it  at  the  same  time,  and  are  ready  to  testify  to 
what  he  said;  I  can  produce  the  boy  who  came  to  tell  me 
the  part  he  took  in  it;  I  have  the  affidavit  and  have  just 
come  from  the  woman  who  interfered  and  followed  you 
here  in  an  effort  to  save  Elizabeth;  I  have  this  piece  of 
work  in  my  hands,  done  by  one  of  the  greatest  scientists 


THE  SONG  OF  A  BIRD  145 

and  two  of  the  best  surgeons  living.  Although  you 
shrink  from  it,  I  take  pleasure  in  showing  it  to  you. 
This  ragged  seam  is  an  impress  of  the  crack  you  made  in  a 
tiny  skull  lying  in  a  vault  out  at  Forest  Hill." 

He  paused,  holding  a  plaster  cast  before  the  woman. 

"It's  a  little  bit  of  a  thing,"  he  said  deliberately.  "She 
was  a  tiny  creature  to  have  been  done  to  death  at  your 
hands.  I  hope  you  will  see  that  small  pink  face  as  I  see 
it,  and  feel  the  soft  hair  in  your  fingers,  and — after  all,  I 
can't  go  on  with  that.  But  I  am  telling  you,  and  showing 
you  exactly  what  you  are  facing,  because  you  must  go 
from  this  house  with  these  men;  your  things  will  be  sent. 
You  must  leave  this  city  and  this  country  on  the  boat 
they  take  you  to,  and  where  you  go  you  will  be  watched; 
if  ever  you  dare  take  service  handling  a  child  again,  I  shall 
have  you  promptly  arrested  and  forced  to  answer  for  the 
cold-blooded  murder  of  my  little  daughter.  Live  you 
must,  I  suppose,  but  not  longer  by  the  torture  of  children. 
Go,  before  I  strangle  you  as  you  deserve!" 

How  Mrs.  Minturn  came  to  be  standing  beside  her  hus- 
band, she  never  afterward  knew;  only  that  she  was,  pulling 
down  his  arm  to  stare  at  the  white  cast.  Then  she  looked 
up  at  him  and  said  simply:  "But  Lucette  didn't  murder 
her;  it  was  I.  I  was  her  mother.  I  knew  she  was  beaten. 
I  knew  she  was  abused !  I  didn't  stop  my  pleasure  to  inter- 
fere, lest  I  should  lose  a  minute  by  having  to  see  to  her 
myself!  A  woman  did  come  to  me,  and  a  boy!  I  knew 
they  were  telling  the  truth!  I  didn't  know  it  was  so  bad, 
but  I  knew  it  must  have  been  dreadful,  to  bring  them.  I 
had  my  chance  to  save  her.  I  went  to  her  as  the  woman 


146  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

told  me  to,  and  because  she  was  quiet,  I  didn't  even  turn 
her  over.  I  didn't  run  a  ringer  across  her  little  head.  I 
didn't  call  a  surgeon.  I  preferred  an  hour  of  pleasure  to 
taking  the  risk  of  being  dis:urbed.  I  am  quite  as  guilty  as 
Lucette!  Have  them  take  me  with  her." 

James  Minturn  stepped  back,  gazing  at  his  wife.  Then 
he  motioned  the  men  toward  the  door,  so  with  the  woman 
they  left  the  room. 

"Lucette  just  had  her  sentence,"  he  said,  "now  for 
yours!  Words  are  useless!  I  am  leaving  your  house 
with  my  sons.  They  are  my  sons,  and  with  the  proof 
I  hold,  you  will  not  claim  them.  If  you  do,  you  will  not 
get  them.  I  am  taking  them  to  the  kind  of  a  house  I 
deem  suitable  for  them,  and  to  such  care  as  I  can  provide. 
I  shall  keep  them  in  my  presence  constantly  as  possible 
until  I  see  just  what  harm  has  been  done,  and  how  to 
remedy  what  can  be  changed.  I  shall  provide  such  teach- 
ers as  I  see  fit  for  them,  and  devote  the  remainder  of  my 
life  to  them.  All  I  ask  of  you  is  to  spare  them  the  dis- 
grace of  forcing  me  to  prove  my  right  to  them,  or  ever 
having  them  realize  just  what  happened  to  their  sister,  and 
your  part  in  it." 

She  held  the  flowers  toward  him. 

" I  brought  these—  "  she  began,  then  paused.  "You 
wouldn't  believe  me,  if  I  should  tell  you.  You  are  right ! 
Perfectly  justified!  Of  course  I  shall  not  bring  this  before 
the  public.  Go!" 

At  the  door  he  looked  back.  She  had  dropped  into  a 
chair  beside  the  table,  holding  the  cast  in  one  hand,  the 
fringed  orchids  in  the  other. 


CHAPTER  VII 
PEACHES'  PREFERENCE  IN  BLESSINGS 


<7 


D  ain't  made  a  sweeter  girl 

Lily,  'at  keeps  my  heart  a-zvhirl. 
If  I  was  to  tell  an  awful  whopper, 
I'd  get  took  by  the  cross  old  copper." 

Mickey. 


Thus  chanted  Mickey  at  his  door,  his  hands  behind 
him.  Peaches  stretched  both  hers  toward  him  as  usual; 
but  he  stood  still,  swinging  in  front  of  him  a  beautiful  doll, 
for  a  little  sick  girl.  A  baby  doll  in  a  long  snowy  dress 
and  a  lace  cap;  it  held  outstretched  arms,  but  was  not 
heavy  enough  to  tire  small  wavering  hands.  Peaches 
lunged  forward  until  only  Mickey's  agility  saved  her 
from  falling.  He  tossed  the  doll  on  the  bed,  and  caught 
the  child,  the  lump  in  his  throat  so  big  his  voice  was 
strained  as  he  cried:  "Why  you  silly  thing!" 

With  her  safe  he  again  proffered  it.  Peaches  shut  her 
eyes  and  buried  her  face  on  his  breast. 

"Oh  don't  let  me  see  it!     Take  it  away!" 

"Why  Lily!  I  thought  you'd  be  crazy  about  it,"  mar- 
velled Mickey.  "Honest  I  did!  The  prettiest  lady  sent 
it  to  you.  Let  me  tell  you ! " 

"Giving  them  up  is  worser  'an  never  having  them. 
Take  it  away!"  wailed  Peaches. 

147 


i48  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Well  Lily!"  said  Mickey.  "I  never  was  stuck  up 
about  my  looks,  but  I  didn't  s'pose  I  looked  so  like  a 
granny  that  you'd  think  that  of  me.  Don't  I  seem  man 
enough  to  take  care  of  a  little  flowersy-girl  'thout  selling 
her  doll  ?  There's  where  I  got  your  granny  skinned  a  mile. 
I  don't  booze,  and  I  never  will.  Mother  hammered  that 
into  me.  Now  look  what  a  pretty  it  is !  You'll  just  love 
it!  I  wouldn't  take  it!  I'd  lay  out  anybody  who  would. 
Come  on  now!  Negotiate  it!  Get  your  flippers  on  it!" 

He  was  holding  the  child  gently  and  stroking  her  tum- 
bled hair.  When  he  put  her  from  him  to  see  her  face, 
Mickey  was  filled  with  envy  because  he  had  been  forced 
to  admit  the  gift  was  not  from  him.  He  shut  his  lips 
tight,  but  his  face  was  grim  as  he  studied  Peaches'  flushed 
cheeks  and  wet  eyes,  and  noted  the  shaking  eagerness  for 
the  doll  she  was  afraid  to  look  at.  He  reached  over  and 
put  it  into  her  arms,  then  piled  the  pillows  so  she  could 
see  better,  talking  the  while  to  comfort  her. 

"Course  it  is  yours!  Course  nobody  is  going  to  take  it! 
Course  you  shall  always  have  it,  and  maybe  a  grown-up 
lady  doll  by  Christmas.  Who  knows?" 

In  utter  content  Peaches  sank  against  the  pillows, 
watching  Mickey,  while  she  gripped  the  baby. 

"Thank  you,  Mickey-lovest,"  she  said.  "Oh  thank 
you  for  this  Precious  Child!" 

"You  got  to  thank  a  lady  about  twice  my  height,  with 
dark  hair,  pink  cheeks,  and  beautiful  dresses.  She's 
got  a  big  rest  house,  a  lover  man,  and  an  automobile 
I  wish  you  could  see,  Lily,"  he  said. 

"If  I  was  on  the  rags  in  the  corner,  I'd  have  this  child — 


PEACHES'  PREFERENCE  IN  BLESSINGS  149 

wouldn't  I?"  scoffed  Peaches,  still  clutching  the  doll,  but 
her  gaze  on  Mickey.  "What  happened  was,  'at  she  liked 
you  for  something,  and  give  you  the  baby,  so  you  brought 
it  to  me.  Thank  you  Mickey,  for  this  Precious  Child!" 

Peaches  lifted  her  lips.  Mickey  met  them  more  ob- 
sessed than  before.  Then  she  turned  away,  clasping 
the  doll.  Mickey  could  see  that  the  tears  were  slipping 
from  under  the  child's  closed  lids,  but  her  lips  were  on  the 
doll  face,  so  he  knew  she  was  happy.  He  stole  out  to 
bring  in  his  purchases  for  supper,  and  begin  his  evening 
work.  He  gave  Peaches  a  drink,  her  daily  rub,  cleaned 
,the  room  without  making  dust  as  the  nurse  had  shown 
him,  and  brought  water.  He  shook  his  fist  at  the  faucet. 

"Now  hereafter,  nix  on  the  butting  in!"  he  said  belliger- 
ently. "Mebby  I  couldn't  have  got  that  doll,  but  I  could 
have  got  one  she'd  have  liked  just  as  well,  and  earned  it 
extra,  in  one  day.  There's  one  feature  of  the  Big  Brother 
business  that  I  was  a  little  too  fast  on.  He's  the  finest  man 
that  ever  wanted  me,  while  his  rooms  are  done  shameful. 
I  could  put  a  glitter  on  them  so  he  could  see  himself  with 
the  things  he  has  to  work  with,  and  he  said  any  time  I 
wanted  it,  the  job  was  mine.  It -wouldn't  be  cheating 
him  any  if  I  took  it,  and  did  better  work  than  he's  getting, 
and  my  steady  papers  are  sure  in  the  morning;  that  would 
be  sure  in  the  afternoon,  and  if  I  cut  ice  with  a  buzz  saw,  I 
might  get  through  in  time  to  pick  up  something  else  before 
coming  home,  and  being  sure  beats  hoping  a  mile,  yes  ten 
miles!  Mebby  I'll  investigate  that  business  a  little  fur- 
ther, 'cause  hereafter  I  provide  for  my  own  family.  See? 
Lily  was  grand  about  it.  Gee!  she's  smart  to  think  it  out 


1 5o  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

that  way  all  in  a  minute.  But  by  and  by  she's  going  to 
have  a  lot  of  time  to  think.  Then  she'll  be  remembering 
about  the  lady  I  got  to  tell  her  of  'stead  of  me,  as  she 
should!  Guess  I'll  run  my  own  family!  I'll  take  another 
look  at  cleaning  that  office.  There  ain't  any  lap-dog  busi- 
ness in  a  job,  and  being  paid  for  it,  if  you  do  it  well." 

Mickey  turned  the  faucet  and  marched  up  the  stairs 
with  head  high  and  shoulders  square.  His  face  was  grave 
while  he  worked,  but  Peaches  was  so  happy  she  did  not 
notice.  When  he  came  with  her  supper  she  kissed  the 
doll,  then  insisted  on  Mickey  kissing  it  also.  Such  was 
the  state  of  his  subjugation  he  commenced  with  "Aw!" 
and  ended  by  doing  as  he  was  told.  He  even  helped  lay 
the  doll  beside  Peaches  exactly  as  her  fancy  dictated,  and 
covered  it  with  her  sheet,  putting  its  hands  outside. 
Peaches  was  enchanted.  She  insisted  on  offering  it  a 
drink  of  her  milk  first,  and  was  so  tremulously  careful 
lest  she  spill  a  drop  that  Mickey  had  to  guide  her  hand. 
He  promised  to  wash  the  doll's  dress  if  she  did  have  an  acci- 
dent, or  when  it  became  soiled,  and  bowed  his  head  meekly 
to  the  crowning  concession  by  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the 
bed,  after  he  had  finished  his  evening  work,  and  holding 
the  doll  where  she  could  see  it,  exactly  as  instructed,  while 
he  told  her  about  his  wonderful  adventure. 

"Began  yesterday,"  explained  Mickey.  "You  know 
I  told  you  there  was  going  to  be  a  surprise.  Well  this  is  it. 
When  the  lady  gave  me  the  ribbons  for  you,  she  told  me 
to  come  back  to-night,  and  get  it.  Course  I  could  a-got 
it  myself.  I  would  a-got  it  for  Christmas " 

"Oh  Mickey-lovest,  does  Christmas  come  here?" 


PEACHES'  PREFERENCE  IN  BLESSINGS  151 

"Surest  thing  you  know!"  said  Mickey.  "A  fat  stock- 
ing full  of  every  single  thing  the  Nurse  Lady  tells  Santa 
Claus  a  little — a  little  flowersy-girl  that  ain't  so  strong 
yet,  may  have,  and  a  big  lady  doll  and  a  picture  book." 

"But  I  never  had  no  stockings,"  said  Peaches. 

"Well  you'll  have  by  that  time,"  promised  Mickey. 

"Oh  Mickey,  I'm  so  glad  I  want  to  say  a  prayin's  'at 
you  found  me,  'stead  of  some  other  kid!"  exulted  Peaches. 

"Yes  Miss,  and  that's  one  thing  I  forgot!"  said  Mickey. 
"We'll  begin  to-night.  You  ain't  a  properly  raised  lady 
unless  you  say  your  prayers.  I  know  the  one  She  taught 
me.  To-night  will  be  a  good  time,  'cause  you'll  be  so 
thankful  for  your  pretty  ribbons  and  your  baby,  that 
you'll  just  love  to  say  a  real  thankful  prayer." 

"Mickey,  I  ain't  goin'  to  say  prayin's!  I  just  said  I 
was,"  explained  Peaches.  "I  never  said  none  for  granny, 
'cause  she  only  told  me  to  when  she  was  drunk." 

"No  and  you  never  had  a  box  of  ribbons  to  make  you 
look  so  sweet,  or  a  baby  to  stay  with  you  while  I'm  gone. 
If  you  ain't  thankful  enough  for  them  to  say  your  prayers,, 
you  shouldn't  have  them,  nor  any  more,  nor  Christmas, 
nor  anything,  but  just — just  like  you  was." 

Peaches  blinked,  gasped,  digested  the  statements,  then 
yielded  wholly. 

"I  guess  I'll  say  them.     Mickey  when  shall  I?'* 

"To-night  'fore  you  go  to  sleep,"  said  Mickey. 

"Now  tell  me  about  the  baby,"  urged  Peaches. 

"Sure!  I  was  I  I  could  a-got  it  myself,  like  I  was  tell- 
ing you;  but  the  ones  in  the  stores  have  such  funny  clothes. 
They  look  so  silly.  I  knew  I  couldn't  wash  them  and  of 


1 52  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

course  they'd  get  dirty  like  everything  does,  and  we 
couldn't  have  them  dirty,  so  I  thought  it  over,  and  I  said 
to  Mickey-boy,  'if  the  Joy  Lady  is  so  anxious  to  get  the 
baby,  and  sew  its  clothes  herself,  why  I'll  just  let  her,'  so  I 
did  let  her,  but  it  took  some  time  to  make  them,  so  I  had 
to  wait  to  bring  it  'til  to-night.  I  was  to  go  to  her  house 
after  it,  and  when  I  got  there  she  was  coming  home  in  her 
car  from  a  long  drive,  and  gee,  Lily,  I  wish  you  could  have 
seen  her!  She's  the  prettiest  lady,  and  the  most  joyous 
lady  I  ever  saw." 

"Prettier  than  the  Nurse  Lady?"  asked  Peaches. 

"Well  different,"  explained  Mickey.  "Nurse  Lady  is 
all  gold  like  the  end  of  Sunrise  Alley  at  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  This  lady  has  dark  hair  and  eyes.  Both  of 
them  are  as  pretty  as  women  are  made,  but  they  are  not 
the  same.  Nurse  Lady  is  when  the  sun  comes  up,  and 
warms  and  comforts  the  world;  but  the  doll-lady  is  like 
all  the  stars  twinkling  in  the  moonlight  on  the  park  lake, 
and  music  playing,  and  everybody  dancing.  The  doll- 
lady  is  joy,  just  the  Joy  Lady.  Gee,  Lily,  you  should  have 
seen  her  face  when  the  car  stopped,  while  I  was  coming 
down  the  steps." 

"Was  she  so  glad  to  see  you?"  asked  Peaches. 

'Twasn't  me!"  said  Mickey.  " 'Twas  on  her  face 
before  she  saw  me.  She  was  just  gleaming,  and  shining, 
and  spilling  over  joy!  She  isn't  the  kind  that  would  dance 
on  the  street,  nor  where  it  ain't  nice  to  dance;  but  she  was 
dancing  inside  just  the  same.  She  pulled  me  right  into 
that  big  fine  car,  so  I  sat  on  the  seat  with  her,  and  we 
went  sailing,  and  skating,  and  flying  along  and  all  the 


PEACHES'  PREFERENCE  IN  BLESSINGS     153 

boys  guying  me,  but  I  didn't  care!  I  liked  to  ride  in  her 
car!  I  never  rode  in  a  car  like  that  before.  She  went 
a-whizzing  right  to  the  office  of  the  big  man,  where  maybe 
I'll  work;  I  guess  I'll  go  see  him  to-morrow,  I  got  a  hanker- 
ing for  knowing  what  I'm  going  to  do,  and  where  I'm  going 
to  do  it,  and  since  I  got  you,  what  I'm  going  to  be  paid  for 
it.  Well  she  went  spinning  there,  and  she  said  'you  wait 
a  minute,'  then  she  ran  in  and  pretty  soon  out  she  came 
with  him.  His  name  is  Mr.  Douglas  Bruce,  and  I  guess  it 
would  be  a  little  closer  what  She'd  think  right  if  I'd  use 
it.  And  hers  he  calls  her  by,  is  Leslie.  Ain't  that  pretty? 
When  he  says  'Leslie'  sounds  as  if  he  kissed  the  name  as 
it  came  through.  Honest  it  does!" 

"I  bet  he  says  it  just  like  you  say  'Lily!'" 

"I  wonder  now!"  grinned  Mickey.  "Well  he  came 
out  and  what  she  had  told  him,  set  him  crazy  too.  They 
just  talked  a  streak,  but  he  shook  hands  with  me,  and 
she  said,  'You  tell  the  driver  where  to  go  Mickey,'  and  I 
said,  'Go  where,  Miss?'  and  she  said,  'To  take  you  home,* 
and  I  said,  'You  don't  need!'  and  she  said,  'I'd  like  to!' 
and  I  saw  she  didn't  care  what  she  did,  so  I  just  sent  him 
to  the  end  of  the  car  line  and  saved  my  nickel,  and  then 
I  come  on  here,  and  both  of  them " 

"What?"  asked  Peaches  eagerly. 

Mickey  changed  the  "wanted  to  come  to  see  you"  that 
had  been  on  his  lips.  If  he  told  Peaches  that,  and  she 
asked  for  them  to  come,  and  they  came,  and  then  thought 
he  was  not  taking  care  of  her  right,  and  took  her  away 
from  him — then  what? 

"Said   good-bye   the   nicest,"   he   substituted.     "And 


I54  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

I'm  going  to  see  if  she  wants  any  more  letters  carried  as 
soon  as  my  papers  are  gone  in  the  morning,  and  if  she  does, 
I'm  going  to  take  them,  and  if  one  is  to  him,  I'm  going  to 
ask  him  more  about  the  job  he  offered  me,  and  if  we  can 
agree,  I'm  going  to  take  it.  Then  I  can  buy  you  what 
you  want  myself,  because  I'll  know  every  day  exactly 
what  I'll  have,  and  when  the  rent  is  counted  out,  and  for 
the  papers,  all  the  rest  will  be  for  eating,  and  what  you 
need,  and  to  save  for  your  new  back." 

"My,  I  wisht  I  had  it  now!"  cried  Peaches.  "I  wisht 
I  could  a-rode  in  that  car  too!  Wasn't  it  perfeckly 
grand  Mickey?" 

"Grand  as  any  king,"  said  Mickey. 

"What  is  a  king?"  asked  Peaches. 

"One  of  the  big  bosses  across  the  ocean,"  explained 
Mickey.  "You'll  learn  them  when  you  get  farther  with 
your  lessons.  They  own  most  »1\  the  money,  and  the 
finest  houses,  and  all  the  people.  Just  own  them.  Own 
them  so's  they  can  tell  good  friends  to  go  to  it,  and  kill 
each  other,  even  relations  " 

"And  do  they  do  it?"  marvelled  Peaches. 

"Sure  they  do  it!"  cried  Mickey.  "Why  they  are  do- 
ing it  right  now  !  I  could  bring  a  paper  and  read  you  things 
that  would  make  you  so  sick  you  couldn't  sit  up!" 

"What  kind  of  things,  Mickey?" 

"About  kings  making  all  the  fathers  kill  each  other,  and 
burn  down  each  other's  houses,  and  blow  up  the  cities, 
and  eat  all  the  food  themselves,  and  leave  the  mothers 
with  no  home,  and  no  groceries,  and  no  stove,  and  no  beds, 
and  the  bullets  flying,  and  the  cities  burning,  and  no  place 


PEACHES'  PREFERENCE  IN  BLESSINGS  155 

to  go,  and  the  children  starving  and  dying Gee,  I  ain't 

ever  going  to  tell  you  any  more,  Lily!  It's  too  awful! 
You'd  feel  better  not  to  know.  Honest  you  would! 
Wish  I  hadn't  told  you  anything  about  it  at  all.  Where's 
your  slate?  We  got  to  do  lessons  'fore  it  gets  so  dark  and 
we  are  so  sleepy  we  can't  see." 

Peaches  proudly  handed  him  the  slate.  In  wavering 
lines  and  tremulous  curves  ran  her  first  day's  work  alone, 
over  erasures,  and  with  relinings,  in  hills  and  deep  depres- 
sions, which  it  is  possible  Mickey  read  because  he  knewT 
what  it  had  to  be,  he  proudly  translated,  "Mickey- 
lovest."  Then  oie  lines  of  the  night  before,  then  "cow" 
and  "milk."  And  then  Mickey  whooped  because  he 
faintly  recognized  an  effort  to  draw  a  picture  of  the  cow 
and  the  milk  bottle. 

"Grand  Lily!"  he  cried.  "Gee,  you're  the  smartest 
kid  I  ever  knew!  You'll  know  all  I  do  'fore  long,  and 
then  you'll  need  your  back,  so's  you  can  get  ready  to  go 
to  a  Young  Ladies'  Sem'nary." 

"What's  that?"  interestedly  asked  Peaches. 

"A  school.  Where  other  nice  girls  go,  and  where  you 
learn  all  that  I  don't  know  to  teach  you,"  said  Mickey. 

"I  won't  go!"  said  Peaches. 

"Oh  yes  you  will,  Miss,"  said  Mickey.  '  'Cause  you're 
my  family,  so  you'll  do  as  I  say." 

"Will  you  go  with  me?"  asked  Peaches. 

" Sure!  I'll  take  you  there  in  a  big  au Oh,  I  don't 

know  as  I  will  either.  We'll  have  to  save  our  money,  if 
we  both  go.  We'll  go  on  a  street  car,  and  walk  up  a  grand 
av'noo  among  trees,  and  I'll  take  you  in,  and  see  if  your 


156  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

room  is  right,  and  everything,  and  all  the  girls  will  like 
you  'cause  you're  so  smart,  and  your  hair's  so  pretty,  and 
then  I'll  go  to  a  boys'  school  close  by,  and  learn  how  to 
make  poetry  pieces  that  beat  any  in  the  papers.  Every 
time  I  make  a  new  one  I'll  come  and  ask,  'Is  Miss  Lily — 
Miss  Lily  Peaches '  Gee  kid,  what's  your  name ?" 

Mickey  stared  at  Peaches,  while  she  stared  back  at 
him. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  said.     "Do  you  care,  Mickey?" 

"What  was  your  granny's?"  asked  Mickey. 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Peaches. 

"Was  she  your  mother's  mother?"  persisted  Mickey. 

"Yes,"  replied  Peaches. 

"Did  you  ever  see  your  father?"  Mickey  went  on. 

"I  don't  know  nothing  about  fathers,"  she  said. 

Mickey  heaved  a  deep  sigh. 

"Well!  That's  over!"  he  said.  "/  know  something 
about  fathers.  I  know  a  lot.  I  know  that  you  are  no 
worse  off,  not  knowing  who  your  father  was  than  to  know 
he  was  so  mean  that  you  are  glad  he's  dead.  Your  way 
leaves  you  hoping  that  he  was  just  awful  nice,  and  got 
killed,  or  was  taken  sick  or  something;  my  way,  there  ain't 
no  doubts  in  your  mind.  You  are  plumb  sure  he  wasn't 
decent.  Don't  you  bother  none  about  fathers!" 

"My  I'm  glad,  Mickey!"  cried  Peaches  joyously. 

"So  am  I,"  said  Mickey  emphatically.  "We  don't 
want  any  fathers  coming  here  to  butt  in  on  us,  just  as  we 
get  your  back  Carreled  and  you  ready  to  start  to  school." 

"Can  I  go  without  a  name  Mickey?"  asked  Peaches. 

"Course  not!"  said  Mickey.     "You  have  to  put  your 


PEACHES'  PREFERENCE  IN  BLESSINGS  157 

name  on  a  roll  the  first  thing,  then  you  must  be  interdooced 
to  the  Head  Lady  and  all  the  girls." 

"What'll  I  do  Mickey?"  anxiously  inquired  Peaches. 

"Well,  for  smart  as  you  are  in  some  spots,  you're  awful 
dumb  in  others,"  commented  Mickey.  "What'll  you  do, 
saphead  ?  Gee!  Ain't  you  mine  ?  Ain't  you  my  family  ? 
Ain't  my  name  good  enough  for  you?  Your  name  will 
be  Miss  Lily  Peaches  O'Halloran.  That's  a  name  good 
enough  for  a  Queen  Lady!" 

"What's  a  Queen?"  inquired  Peaches. 

"Wife  of  those  kings  we  were  just  talking  about." 

"Sure!"  said  Peaches.  "None  of  them  have  a  nicer 
name  than  that!  Mickey,  is  my  bow  straight?" 

"Naw  it  ain't!"  said  Mickey.  "Take  the  baby  'til  I 
fix  it!  It's  about  slipped  off!  There!  That's  better." 

"Mickey,  let  me  see  it!"  suggested  Peaches. 

Mickey  brought  the  mirror.  She  looked  so  long  he 
grew  tired  and  started  to  put  it  back,  but  she  clung  to  it. 

"Just  lay  it  on  the  bed,"  she  said. 

"Naw  I  don't,  Miss  Chicken— O'Halloran!"  he  said. 
"Mirrors  cost  money,  and  if  you  pull  the  sheet  in  the  night, 
and  slide  ours  off,  and  it  breaks,  we  got  seven  years  of  bad 
luck  coming,  and  we  are  nix  on  changing  the  luck  we  have 
right  now.  It's  good  enough  for  us.  Think  of  them  Bel- 
gium kids  where  the  kings  are  making  the  fathers  fight. 
This  goes  where  it  belongs,  then  you  take  your  drink,  and 
let  me  beat  your  pillow,  and  you  fix  your  baby,  and  then 
we'll  say  our  prayers,  and  go  to  sleep." 

Mickey  replaced  the  mirror  and  carried  out  the  program 
he  had  outlined.  When  he  came  to  the  orayer  he  ordered 


i58  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Peaches  to  shut  her  eyes,  fold  her  hands  and  repeat  after 
him: 

"'Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep"5 

Peaches'  eyes  opened. 

"Oh,  is  it  a  poetry  prayer,  Mickey?"  she  asked. 

"Yes.     Kind  of  a  one.     Say  it,"  answered  Mickey. 

Peaches  obeyed,  repeating  the  words  lingeringly  and  in 
her  sweetest  tones.  Mickey  thrilled  to  his  task. 

"'I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  keep" he  proceeded. 

"What's  my  soul,  Mickey?"  she  asked. 

"The  very  nicest  thing  inside  of  you,"  explained  Mickey. 
"Goon!"  " 

"Like  my  heart  ? "  questioned  Peaches. 

"Yes.  Only  nicer,"  said  Mickey.  "Shut  your  eyes 
and  go  on ! " 

Peaches  obeyed. 

' '  If  I  should  die  before  I  wake ' " continued  Mickey. 

Peaches'  eyes  flashed  open;  she  drew  back  in  horror. 

"  I  won't ! "  she  cried.  "  I  won't  say  that.  That's  what 
happened  to  granny,  an'  I  saw.  She  was  the  awfullest,  an* 
then — the  men  came.  I  won't  /" 

Mickey  opened  his  eyes,  looking  at  Peaches,  his  lips  in  a 
set  line,  his  brow  wrinkled  in  thought. 

"Well  I  don't  know  what  they  went  and  put  that  in  for," 
he  said  indignantly.  "Scaring  little  kids  into  fits!  It's 
all  right  when  you  don't  know  what  it  means,  but  when 
kids  has  been  through  what  we  have,  it's  different.  I 
wouldn't  say  it  either.  You  wait  a  minute.  I  can  beat 
that  myself.  Let  me  think.  Now  I  got  it!  Shut  your 
eyes  and  go  on : 


PEACHES'  PREFERENCE  IN  BLESSINGS  159 

"If  I  should  come  to  live  with  Thee " 

"Well  I  ain't  goin'!"  said  Peaches  flatly.  "I'm  goin'  to 
stay  right  here  with  you.  I'd  a  lot  rather  than  anywhere. 
King's  house  or  anywhere!" 

"I  never  saw  such  a  kid!"  wailed  Mickey.  "I  think 
that's  pretty.  I  like  it  heaps.  Come  on  Peaches!  Be 
good!  Listen!  The  next  line  goes:  'Open  loving  arms  to 
shelter  me.'  Like  the  big  white  Jesus  at  the  Cathedral 
door.  Come  on  now!" 

"I  wont  !  I'm  goin'  to  live  right  here,  and  I  don't  want 
no  big  white  Jesus'  arms;  I  want  yours.  'F  I  go  anywhere, 
you  got  to  lift  me  yourself,  and  let  me  take  my  Precious 
Child  along." 

"Lily,  you're  the  worst  kid  I  ever  saw,"  said  Mickey. 
"No  you  ain't  either!  I  know  a  lot  worse  than  you.  You 
just  don't  understand.  I  guess  you  better  pray  something 
you  do  understand.  Let  me  think  again.  Now  try  this: 
Keep  me  through  the  starry  night " 

"Sure!     I  just  love  that,"  crooned  Peaches. 

"Wake  me  safe  with  sunrise  bright,"  prompted  Mickey, 
and  the  child  smilingly  repeated  the  words. 

"Now  comes  some  'Blesses,'"  said  Mickey.  "I  don't 
know  just  how  to  manage  them.  You  haven't  a  father  to 
bless,  and  your  mother  got  what  was  coming  to  her  long  ago ; 
blessing  her  now  wouldn't  help  any  if  it  wasn't  pleasant; 
same  with  your  granny,  only  more  recent.  I'll  tell  you! 
Now  I  know!  'Bless  the  Sunshine  Lady  for  all  the  things 
to  make  me  comfortable,  and  bless  the  Moonshine  Lady 
for  the  ribbons  and  the  doll." 

"Aw!"  cried  Peaches,  staring  up  at  him  in  rebellion. 


160  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Now  you  go  on,  Miss  Chicken,"  ordered  Mickey,  los- 
ing patience,  "and  then  you  end  with  'Amen,'  which 
means,  'So  be  it,'  or  'Make  it  happen  that  way,'  or  some- 
thing like  that.  Go  to  it  now!" 

Peaches  shut  her  eyes,  refolded  her  hands  and  lifted  her 
chin.  After  a  long  pause  Mickey  was  on  the  point  of 
breaking,  she  said  sweetly:  "Bless  Mickey-lovest,  an* 
bless  him,  an'  bless  him  million  times;  an'  bless  him  for  the 
bed,  an'  the  window,  an'  bless  him  for  finding  the  Nurse 
Lady,  an'  bringing  the  ribbons,  an'  the  doll,  an'  bless  him 
for  the  slate,  an'  the  teachin's,  an'  bless  him  for  everything 
I  just  love,  an*  love.  Amen — hard!" 

When  Peaches  opened  her  eyes  she  found  Mickey 
watching  her,  a  commingling  of  surprise  and  delight  on  his 
face.  Then  he  bent  over  and  laid  his  cheek  against  hers. 

"You  fool  little  kid,"  he  whispered  tenderly.  "You 
precious  fool  little  flowersy-kid!  You  make  a  fellow  love 
you  'til  he  nearly  busts  inside.  Kiss  me  good-night,  Lily." 

He  slipped  the  ribbon  from  her  hair,  straightened  the 
sheets,  arranged  as  the  nurse  had  taught  him,  laid  the  doll 
as  Peaches  desired,  and  then  screened  by  the  foot  of  the  bed, 
undressed  and  stretched  himself  on  the  floor.  The  same 
moon  that  peeped  in  the  window  to  smile  her  broadest  at 
Peaches  and  her  Precious  Child,  and  touched  Mickey's 
face  to  wondrous  beauty,  at  that  hour  also  sent  shining 
bars  of  light  across  the  veranda  where  Leslie  sat  and  told 
Douglas  Bruce  about  the  trip  to  the  swamp. 

"I  never  knew  I  could  be  so  happy  over  anything  in  all 
this  world  that  didn't  include  you  and  Daddy.  But  of 
course  this  does  in  a  way;  you,  at  least.  Much  as  you 


PEACHES'  PREFERENCE  IN  BLESSINGS  161 

think  of,  and  are  with,  Mr.  Minturn,  you  can't  help  being 
glad  that  joy  has  come  to  him  at  last.  Why  don't  you  say 
something,  Douglas?" 

"I  have  been  effervescing  ever  since  you  came  to  the 
office  after  me,  and  I  find  now  that  the  froth  is  off,  I'm 
getting  to  the  solid  facts  in  the  case,  and,  well  I  don't  wanf 
to  say  a  word  to  spoil  your  joyous  day,  but  I'm  worried, 
'  Bringer  of  Song.' ': 

"Worried  ?"  cried  Leslie.  "Why  ?  You  don't  think  he 
wouldn't  be  pleased  ?  You  don't  think  he  might  not  be — 
responsive,  do  you?" 

"Think  of  the  past  years  of  neglect,  insult  and  humilia- 
tion!" suggested  Douglas. 

"Think  of  the  future  years  of  loving  care,  reparation  and 
joy!"  commented  Leslie. 

"Please  God  they  outweigh!"  said  Douglas.  "Of 
course  they  will!  It  must  be  a  few  things  I've  seen  lately 
that  keep  puzzling  me." 

"What  have  you  seen,  Douglas?"  questioned  Leslie. 

"Deals  in  real  estate,"  he  answered.  "Consultations 
with  detectives  and  policemen,  scientists  and  surgeons." 

"But  what  could  that  have  to  do  with  Nellie  Minturn?" 

"Nothing,  I  hope,"  said  Douglas,  "but  there  has  been  a 
grimness  about  Minturn  lately,  a  going  ahead  with  jaws 
set  that  looks  ugly  for  what  opposes  him,  and  you  tell  me 
they  have  been  in  opposition  ever  since  they  married.  I 
can't  put  him  from  my  thoughts  as  I  saw  him  last." 

"And  I  can't  her,"  said  Leslie.  "She  was  a  lovely  pic- 
ture as  she  came  across  the  silver  moss  carpet,  you  know 
that  gray  green,  Douglas,  her  face  flushed,  her  eyes  wet, 


162  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

her  arms  full  of  those  perfectly  beautiful,  lavender-pink 
fringed  orchids.  She's  a  handsome  woman,  dearest,  and 
she  never  looked  quite  so  well  to  me  as  when  she  came  pick- 
ing her  way  beneath  the  dark  tamarack  boughs.  She  was 
going  to  ask  him  to  go  with  her  to  take  her  flowers  to  Eliza- 
beth, and  over  that  little  white  casket  she  intended 

Why  Douglas,  he  couldn't,  he  simply  couldn't!" 

"Suppose  he  had  something  previously  worked  out  that 
cut  her  off!" 

"Oh  Douglas!     What  makes  you  think  such  a  thing?" 

"What  Minturn  said  to  me  this  morning  with  such  bit- 
terness on  his  face  and  in  his  voice  as  I  never  before  en- 
countered in  man,"  Douglas  answered. 

"He  said —  —  ?"  prompted  Leslie. 
"This  is  my  last  day  as  a  laughing-stock  for  my  fellow- 
men!     To-morrow  I  shall  hold  up  my  head!" 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  that  before?" 

"Didn't  realize  until  just  now  that  you  and  she  hadn't 
seen  him — that  you  were  acting  on  presumption." 

"I'm  going  to  call  her!"  cried  Leslie. 

"I  wouldn't!"  advised  Douglas. 

"Why  not?" 

"After  as  far  as  she  went  to-day,  if  she  had  anything  she 
wanted  you  to  know,  wouldn't  she  feel  free  to  call  you?" 

"You  are  right,"  conceded  Leslie.  "Even  after  to-day, 
for  me  to  call  would  be  an  intrusion.  Let's  not  talk  of  it 
further!  Don't  you  wish  we  could  take  a  peep  at  Mickey 
carrying  the  doll  to  the  little  sick  girl?" 

"I  surely  do!"  answered  Douglas.  "What  do  you 
think  of  him,  Leslie?" 


PEACHES'  PREFERENCE  IN  BLESSINGS  163 

"Great!  Simply  great!"  cried  the  girl.  "Douglas  you 
should  have  heard  him  educate  me  on  the  doll  ques- 
tion." 

"How?"  he  asked  interestedly. 

"From  the  first  glimpse  I  had  of  him,  the  thought  came 
to  me,  'That's  Douglas'  Little  Brother!'"  she  explained. 
"When  you  telephoned  and  said  you  were  sending  him  to 
me,  just  one  idea  possessed  me:  to  get  what  you  wanted. 
Almost  without  thought  at  all  I  tried  the  first  thing  he 
mentioned,  which  happened  to  be  a  little  sick  neighbour 
girl  he  told  me  about.  All  girls  like  a  doll,  and  I  had  one 
dressed  for  a  birthday  gift  for  a  namesake  of  mine,  and 
time  in  plenty  to  fix  her  another.  I  brought  it  to  Mickey 
and  thought  he'd  be  delighted." 

"Was  he  rude?"  inquired  Douglas  anxiously. 

"Not  in  the  least!"  she  answered.  "Only  casual! 
Merely  made  me  see  how  thoughtless  and  unkind  anc* 
positively  vulgar  my  idea  of  pleasing  a  poor  chile 
was." 

"Leslie,  you  shock  me!"  exclaimed  Douglas. 

"I  mean  every  word  of  it,"  said  the  girl.  "Now  listen 
to  me!  It  is  thoughtless  to  offer  a  gift  headlong,  without 
considering  a  second,  is  it  not?" 

"Merely  impulsive,"  replied  Douglas. 

"Identically  the  same  thing!"  declared  Leslie.  "Listen 
I  said!  Without  a  thought  about  suitability,  I  offered 
an  extremely  poor  child  the  gift  I  had  prepared  for  a  very 
rich  one.  Mickey  made  me  see  in  ten  words  that  it  would 
be  no  kindness  to  fill  his  little  friend's  head  with  thoughts 
that  would  sadden  her  heart  with  envy,  make  her  feel  all 


164  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

she  lacked  more  keenly  than  ever;  give  her  a  gift  that  would 
breed  dissatisfaction  instead  of  joy;  if  that  isn't  vulgarity, 
what  is?  Mickey's  Lily  has  no  business  with  a  doll  so 
gorgeous  the  very  sight  of  it  brings  longing,  instead  of  com- 
fort. It  was  unkind  to  offer  a  gift  so  big  and  heavy  it 
would  tire  and  worry  her." 

"There  are  some  ideas  there  on  giving!" 

"Aren't  there  though!"  said  Leslie.  "Mickey  took 
about  three  minutes  to  show  me  that  Lily  was  satisfied  as 
she  was,  so  no  one  would  thank  me  for  awakening  dis- 
content in  her  heart.  He  measured  off  her  size  and  proved 
to  me  that  a  small  doll,  that  would  not  tire  her  to  handle, 
would  be  suitable,  and  so  dressed  that  its  clothes  could  be 
washed  and  would  be  plain  as  her  own.  Even  further! 
Once  my  brain  began  working  I  saw  that  a  lady  doll  with 
shoes  and  stockings  to  suggest  outdoors  and  walking,  was 
not  a  kind  gift  to  make  a  bedridden  child.  Douglas,  after 
Mickey  started  me  I  arose  by  myself  to  the  point  of  seeing 
that  a  little  cuddly  baby  doll,  helpless  as  she,  one  that  she 
could  nestle,  and  play  with  lying  in  bed  would  be  the  proper 
gift  for  Lily.  Think  of  a  'newsy'  making  me  see  that! 
Isn't  he  wonderful?" 

"You  should  have  heard  him  making  me  see  things!" 
said  Douglas.  "Yours  are  faint  and  feeble  to  the  ones  he 
taught  me.  Refused  me  at  every  point,  and  marched 
away  leaving  me  in  utter  rout!  Outside  wanting  you  for 
my  wife,  more  than  anything  else  on  earth,  I  wanted 
Mickey  for  my  Little  Brother." 

"You  have  him!"  comforted  the  girl.  "The  Lord  ar- 
ranged that.  You  remember  He  said,  'All  men  are 


PEACHES'  PREFERENCE  IN  BLESSINGS  165 

brothers,'  and  wasn't  it  Tolstoy  who  wrote:  'If  people 
would  only  understand  that  they  are  not  the  sons  of  some 
fatherland  or  other,  nor  of  governments,  but  are  sons  of 
God?'  You  and  Mickey  will  get  your  brotherhood  ar- 
ranged to  suit  both  of  you  some  of  these  days." 

"  Exactly ! "  conceded  Douglas.  "  But  I  wanted  Mickey 
at  hand  now!  I  wanted  him  to  come  and  go  with  me. 
To  be  educated  with  what  I  consider  education.'5 

"It  will  come  yet,"  prophesied  Leslie.  "Your  ideas 
are  splendid!  I  see  how  fine  they  are!  The  trouble  is 
this:  you  had  a  plan  mapped  out  at  which  Mickey  was  to 
jump.  Mickey  happened  to  have  preconceived  ideas  on 
the  subject,  so  he  didn't  jump.  You  wanted  to  be  the 
king  on  the  throne  and  stretch  out  a  royal  hand,"  laughed 
Leslie.  "You  wanted  to  lift  Mickey  to  your  level,  and 
with  the  inherent  fineness  in  him,  have  him  feel  eternal 
love  and  gratitude  toward  you?" 

"That  sounds  different,  but  it  is  the  real  truth." 

"And  Mickey  doesn't  care  to  be  brother  to  kings,  he 
doesn't  perceive  the  throne  even;  he  wants  you  to  under- 
stand at  the  start  that  you  will  take,  as  well  as  give.  Re- 
fusing pay  for  tidying  your  office  was  his  first  inning. 
That  'Me  to  you!'  was  great.  I  can  see  the  accompany- 
ing gesture.  It  was  the  same  one  he  used  in  demolishing 
my  doll.  Something  vital  and  inborn.  Something  loneli- 
ness, work,  the  crowd,  and  raw  life  have  taught  Mickey, 
that  we  don't  know.  Learn  all  you  can  from  him.  I've 
had  one  good  lesson,  I'm  receptive  and  ready  for  the  next. 
Let's  call  the  car  and  drive  an  hour." 

"That  will  be  pleasant,"  agreed  Douglas. 


166  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Anywhere  in  the  suburbs  to  avoid  the  crowds,"  was 
Leslie's  order  to  her  driver. 

Slowly,  under  traffic  regulations,  the  car  ran  through 
the  pleasant  spring  night;  the  occupants  talking  without 
caring  where  they  were  so  long  as  they  were  together,  in 
motion,  and  it  was  May.  They  were  passing  residences 
where  city  and  country  met.  The  dwellings  of  people 
city  bound,  country  determined.  Homes  where  men 
gave  so  many  hours  to  earning  money,  then  sped  away  to 
train  vines,  prune  trees,  dig  in  warm  earth  and  make 
things  grow.  Such  men  now  crossed  green  lawns  and 
talked  fertilizers,  new  annuals,  tree  surgery,  and  carried 
gifts  of  fragrant,  blooming  things  to  their  friends.  Here 
the  verandas  were  wide  and  children  ran  from  them  to 
grassy  playgrounds;  on  them  women  read  or  sat  with  em- 
broidery hoops  or  visited  in  small  groups. 

"Let's  move,"  said  Leslie.  "Let's  coax  Daddy  to  sell 
our  place  and  come  here.  One  wouldn't  ever  need  go 
summering,  it's  cool  and  pleasant  always.  I'd  love  it! 
There's  a  new  house  and  a  lawn  under  old  trees,  to  shelter 
playing  children;  isn't  it  charming?" 

"Quite!     But  that  small  specimen  seems  refractory." 

Leslie  leaned  forward  to  see  past  him.  In  an  open  door 
stood  a  man  clearly  silhouetted  against  the  light.  Down 
the  steps  sped  a  screaming  boy  about  nine.  After  him 
ran  another  five  or  six  years  older.  When  the  child 
saw  he  would  be  overtaken,  he  headed  straight  for  the 
street;  as  the  pursuer's  hand  brushed  him,  he  threw 
himself  kicking  and  clawing.  The  elder  boy  hesitated, 
looking  for  an  opening  to  find  a  hold.  The  car  was  half  a 


PEACHES'  PREFERENCE  IN  BLESSINGS  167 

block  away  when  Leslie  turned  a  white  face  to  Douglas 
and  gasped  inarticulately.  He  understood  something  was 
wrong  so  signalled  the  driver  to  stop. 

"Turn  and  pass  those  children  again!"  ordered  Leslie. 

As  the  car  went  by  slowly  the  second  time,  the  child  still 
fought,  the  boy  stepped  back,  while  James  Minturn  with 
grim  face,  bent  under  the  light  and  by  force  took  into  his 
arms  the  twisting,  righting  boy. 

"Heaven  help  him!"  cried  Douglas.  "Not  a  sign  of 
happy  reconciliation  there!" 

Leslie  tried  to  choke  down  her  sobs. 

"Oh  Nellie  Minturn!     Poor  woman!"  she  wailed. 

"So  that's  what  he  was  doing!"  marvelled  Douglas. 
"A  house  he  has  built  to  suit  himself;  training  his  sons 
personally,  with  the  assistance  of  his  Little  Brother.  That 
boy  was  William.  I  see  him  in  Minturn's  office  every 
day." 

"Oh  I  think  he  might  have  given  her  a  chance!"  pro- 
tested Leslie.  "Remember  how  she  was  reared!  Think 
what  a  struggle  it  was  for  her  even  to  contemplate  trying 
to  be  different." 

"  Evidently  she  was  too  late ! "  said  Douglas.  "  He  must 
have  been  gone  before  you  returned  from  the  swamp." 

"I'm  going  back  there  and  tell  him  a  few  things!  I 
think  he  might  have  waited.  Douglas,  I'm  afraid  he  did 
wait!  She  said  he  told  her  he  wanted  to  talk  with  her 
when  she  came  back — and  oh  Douglas,  she  said  he  had  a 
small  box  and  he  threatened  to  'freeze  her  soul  with  its 
contents!'  Douglas,  what  could  he  have  had?" 

"'Freeze  her  soul!'     Let  me  think!"  said  Douglas.     "I 


i68  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

met  Professor  Tickner  and  Dr.  Wills  coming  from  his 
offices  a  few  days  ago,  while  he's  just  back  from  a  trip  that 
he  didn't  tell  me  he  was  taking " 

"You  mean  Tickner,  the  scientist;  Wills,  the  surgeon?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Douglas. 

"But  those  children!     Aren't  they  perfectly  healthy?" 

"They  look  it!  Lord,  Leslie!"  cried  Douglas,  "I  have 
it !  He  has  made  good  his  threat.  He  has  frozen  her  soul ! 
What  you  want  to  do  is  to  go  to  her,  Leslie!" 

"Douglas,  tell  me!"  she  demanded. 

"I  can't!"  said  Douglas.  "I  may  be  mistaken.  I 
think  I  am  not,  but  there  is  always  a  chance!  Drive  to 
the  Minturn  residence,"  he  ordered. 

They  found  a  closed  dark  pile  of  stone. 

"Go  past  that  place  where  the  children  were  again!" 
said  Leslie. 

The  upper  story  was  quiet.  Outlined  by  veranda  lights 
the  massive  form  of  James  Minturn  paced  back  and  forth 
under  the  big  trees,  his  hands  clasped  behind  him,  his 
head  bowed,  and  he  walked  alone. 

"Douglas,  I'm  going  to  speak  to  him.  I'm  going  to  tell 
him!"  declared  Leslie. 

"But  you're  now  conceding  that  she  saw  him!"  Douglas 
pointed  out.  "Then  what  have  you  to  tell  him  that 
she  would  not?  If  she  couldn't  move  him  with  what  she 
said,  and  while  you  don't  know  his  side,  what  could  you 
say  to  him?" 

"Nothing,"  she  conceded. 

"Precisely  my  opinion,"  said  Douglas.  "Remember 
Leslie  I  am  a  little  ahead  of  you  in  this.  You  know  her 


PEACHES'  PREFERENCE  IN  BLESSINGS  169 

side.  I  know  all  you  have  told  me  of  her,  also  I  know 
what  he  has  told  me;  while  putting  what  I  have  seen,  and 
heard  at  the  office,  and  him  here  with  the  boys,  in  a  house 
she  would  consider  too  plebeian  for  words — 

"No  Douglas.  No!  She  is  changed!"  cried  Leslie. 
"Completely  changed,  I  tell  you!  She  said  she  would 
wipe  Malcolm's  nose  and  fix  James'  studs — 

"Mere  figures  of  speech!"  remarked  Douglas. 

"They  meant  she  was  ready  to  work  with  her  own 
hands  for  happiness,"  said  Leslie  indignantly. 

"I  think  she's  too  late!"  said  Douglas.  "I  am  afraid 
she  is  one  of  the  unhappiest  women  in  the  world  to-night!" 

"Douglas,  it  wrings  my  heart!"  cried  Leslie. 

"Mine  also,  but  what  can  we  do?"  he  answered.  "For 
ten  years,  she  has  persisted  in  having  her  way,  you  tell 
me;  what  could  she  have  expected?" 

"That  he  would  have  some  heart,"  protested  Leslie. 
"That  he  would  forgive  when  he  was  asked,  as  all  of  us 
are  commanded  to." 

"Does  it  occur  to  you  that  he  might  have  confronted  her 
with  something  that  prevented  her  from  asking?"  sug- 
gested Douglas.  "She  may  never  have  reached  her 
flowers  and  her  proposed  concessions." 

"What  makes  you  think  so?"  queried  Leslie. 

"What  I  see  and  surmise,  and  a  thing  I  know." 

"What  can  I  do?"  asked  Leslie. 

"Nothing!"  Douglas  said  with  finality.  "If  either  of 
them  wants  you,  they  know  where  to  find  you.  But  you're 
tired  now.  Let's  give  the  order  for  home." 

"Shan't  sleep  a  wink  to-night!"  prophesied  Leslie. 


1 7o  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"I  was  afraid  of  that!"  exclaimed  Douglas.     "There 
may  be  a  message  there  for  you  that  will  be  a  comfort." 
"So  there  may  be!     Let's  hurry!"  urged  the  girl. 
There  was.     They  found  a  brief,  pencilled  note. 

DEAR  LESLIE: 

After  to-day,  it  was  due  you  to  send  a  word.  You  tu'ed  so  hard  dear, 
and  you  gave  me  real  joy  for  an  hour.  Then  James  carried  out  his 
threat.  He  did  all  to  me  he  intended,  and  more  than  he  can  ever 
know.  I  have  agreed  to  him  taking  full  possession  of  the  boys,  and 
going  into  a  home  such  as  he  thinks  suitable.  They  will  be  far  better 
off,  and  since  they  scarcely  know  me,  they  can't  miss  me.  Before  you 
receive  this,  I  shall  have  left  the  city.  I  can't  state  just  now  where 
I  am  going  or  what  I  shall  do.  You  can  realize  a  little  of  my  condition. 
If  ever  you  are  tired  of  home  life  and  faintly  tempted  to  neglect  it 
for  society,  use  me  for  your  horrible  example.  Good-bye, 

NELLIE  MINTURN. 

Leslie  read  this  aloud. 

"It's  a  relief  to  know  that  much,"  she  said  with  a 
deep  breath.  "I  can't  imagine  myself  ever  being  'faintly 
tempted,'  but  if  I  am,  surely  she  is  right  about  the  'hor- 
rible example.'  Douglas,  whatever  did  James  Minturn 
have  in  that  box?" 

"I  could  tell  you  what  I  surmise,  but  so  long  as  I  don't 
know  I'd  better  not,"  he  answered. 

"As  our  mutual  friend  Mickey  would  say,  'Nix  on  the 
Swell  Dames,'  for  me!"  said  Leslie  determinedly. 

"Thank  God  witn  all  my  heart!"  cried  Douglas  Bruce. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
BIG  BROTHER 

"~M"'VE  no  time  to  talk,"  said  Douglas  Bruce,  as  Mickey 
appeared  the  following  day;  "my  work  seems  too 
JL  much  for  one  man.     Can  you  help  me  ? " 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey,  wadding  his  cap  into  his  back 
pocket.  Then  he  rolled  his  sleeves  a  turn  higher,  lifted 
his  chin  a  trifle  and  stepped  forward.  "Say  what!" 

It  caught  Douglas  so  suddenly  there  was  no  time  for 
concealment.  He  laughed  heartily. 

"That's  good!"  he  cried.  Mickey  grinned  in  comrade- 
ship. "First,  these  letters  to  the  box  in  the  hall." 

"Next?"  Mickey  queried  as  he  came  through  the  door. 

"This  package  to  the  room  of  the  Clerk  in  the  City 
Hall,  and  bring  back  a  receipt  bearing  his  signature." 

Mickey  saluted,  laid  the  note  inside  the  cover  of  a  book, 
put  it  in  the  middle  of  the  package,  and  a  second  later  his 
gay  whistle  receded  down  the  hall. 

'  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go,  and  when 
he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  from  it,'  "  Douglas  quoted. 
"Mickey  has  been  trained  until  he  would  make  a  good 
trainer  himself." 

In  one-half  the  time  the  trip  had  taken  the  messenger 
boys  Douglas  was  accustomed  to  employing,  Mickey  was 
back  like  the  Gulf  in  the  Forum,  demanding  "more." 

171 


i72  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"See  what  you  can  do  for  these  rooms,  until  the  next 
errand  is  ready,"  suggested  Douglas. 

Mickey  began  gathering  up  the  morning  papers, 
straightening  the  rugs,  curtains  and  arranging  the  furni- 
ture. 

"Hand  this  check  to  the  janitor,"  said  Douglas.  "And 
Mickey,  kindly  ask  him  if  two  dollars  was  what  I  agreed 
to  pay  him  for  my  extras  this  week." 

"Sure!"  said  Mkkey. 

Douglas  would  have  preferred  "Yes  sir,"  but  "Sure!" 
was  a  permanent  ejaculation  decorating  the  tip  of  Mickey's 
tongue.  The  man  watching  closely  did  not  fail  to  catch 
the  flash  of  interest  and  the  lifting  of  the  boy  figure  as  he 
paused  for  instructions.  When  he  returned  Douglas  said 
casually:  "While  I  am  at  it,  I'll  pay  off  my  messenger 
service.  Take  this  check  to  the  address  and  bring  a  re- 
ceipt for  the  amount." 

Mickey's  comment  came  swiftly:  "Gee!  that  boy  would 
be  sore,  if  he  lost  his  job ! " 

"Messenger  Sen-ice  Agency,"  Douglas  said,  busy  at  his 
desk.  "No  boy  would  lose  his  job." 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Mickey  comprehendingly.  His  face 
lighted  at  the  information.  Next  he  carried  a  requisition 
for  books  to  another  city  official  and  telephoned  a  cafe  to 
deliver  a  pitcher  of  lemonade  and  some  small  cakes,  and 
handed  the  boy  a  dime. 

"\\hy  didn't  you  send  me  and  save  your  silver?" 

"I  did  not  think,"  answered  Bruce.  "Some  one  gets 
the  tip,  you  might  as  well  have  had  it." 

"I  didn't  mean  me  hace  it,  I  meant  you  save  it." 


BIG  BROTHER  173 

"Mickey,"  said  Douglas,  "you  know  perfectly  I  can't 
take  your  time  unless  you  accept  from  me  what  I  am  ac- 
customed to  paying  other  boys." 

"Letting  others  bleed  you,  you  mean,"  said  Mickey  in- 
dignantly. "Why  I'd  a-been  glad  to  brought  the  juice 
for  five!  You  never  ought  to  paid  more." 

"Should  have  paid  more,"  corrected  Douglas. 

"'Should  have  paid  more,5'3  repeated  Mickey. 
"Thanks!" 

"Now  try  this,"  said  Douglas,  filling  two  glasses. 

"  Tain't  usual!"  said  Mickey.  "You  drink  that  your- 
self or  save  it  for  friends  that  may  drop  in.' 

"Very  well!"  said  Douglas.  "Of  course  you  might 
have  it  instead  of  the  boy  who  comes  after  the  pitcher,  but 
if  you  don't  like  it " 

"All  right  if  that's  the  way!"  agreed  Mickey. 

He  retired  to  a  window  seat,  enjoyed  the  cool  drink 
and  nibbled  the  cake,  his  eyes  deeply  thoughtful.  When 
offered  a  second  glass  Mickey  did  not  hesitate. 

"Nope!"  he  said  conclusively.  "A  fellow's  head  and 
heels  work  better  when  his  stomach  is  running  light.  I 
can  earn  more  not  to  load  up  with  a  lot  of  stuff.  I  eat  at 
home  when  my  work  is  finished.  She  showed  me  that." 

"She  showed  you  a  good  many  things,  didn't  She?" 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "She  was  my  mother,  so  we 
had  to  look  out  for  ourselves.  When  you  got  nothing  but 
yourself  between  you  and  the  wolf,  you  learn  to  fly,  and 
keep  your  think-tank  in  running*  order.  She  knew  just 
what  was  coming  to  me,  so  She  showed  me,  and  every 
single  thing  She  said  has  come,  and  then  some  !" 


i74  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"I  see!"  said  Douglas.     "A  wise  mother!" 

"Sure!"  agreed  Mickey.  "But  I  guess  it  wouldn't 
have  done  either  of  us  much  good  if  I  hadn't  remembered 
and  kept  straight  on  doing  what  she  taught  me." 

"You  are  right,  it  wouldn't,"  conceded  Douglas. 

"That's  where  I'm  going  to  climb  above  some  of  the 
other  fellows,"  announced  Mickey  confidently.  "Either 
they  didn't  have  mothers  to  teach  them  or  else  they  did, 
and  forget,  or  think  the  teaching  wasn't  worth  anything. 
Now  me,  I  know  She  was  right!  She  always  proved  it! 
She  had  been  up  against  it  longer  than  I  had  and  She 
knew,  so  I  am  going  to  go  right  along  doing  as  She  said. 
I'll  beat  them,  and  carry  double  at  that!" 

"How  double,  Mickey?"  inquired  Douglas. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  say  that,"  he  explained.  "That  was 
a  slip.  There's  a — there's  something — something  I'm 
trying  to  do  that  costs  more  than  it  does  to  live.  I'rr 
bound  to  do  it,  so  I  got  to  run  light  and  keep  my  lamps 
polished  for  chances.  What  next,  sir?" 

"Call  9-4O-X,  and  order  my  car  here,"  said  Douglas. 

He  bent  over  his  papers  to  hide  his  face  when  from  an 
adjoining  room  drifted  Mickey's  voice  in  clear  enuncia- 
tion and  suave  intonation:  "Mr.  Douglas  Bruce  desires 
his  car  to  be  sent  immediately  to  the  Iriquois  Building." 

His  mental  comment  was:  "The  little  scamp  has 
drifted  to  street  lingo  when  he  lacked  his  mother  to  re- 
strain him.  He  can  speak  a  fairly  clean  grade  of  Eng- 
lish now  if  he  chooses." 

"Next?"  briskly  inquired  Mickey. 

"Now  look  here,"  said  Douglas.     "This  isn't  a  horse 


BIG  BROTHER  175 

race.  I  earn  my  living  with  my  brains,  not  my  heels. 
I  must  have  time  to  think  things  out;  when  your  next 
job  arrives  I'll  tell  you.  If  you  are  tired,  take  a  nap  on 
that  couch  in  there." 

"Asleep  at  the  switch!"  marvelled  Mickey. 

He  went  to  the  adjoining  room  but  did  not  sleep.  He 
quietly  polished  and  straightened  furniture,  lingered  be- 
fore bookcases  and  was  at  Douglas'  elbow  as  he  turned 
to  call  him.  Then  they  closed  the  offices  and  went  to 
the  car,  each  carrying  a  load  of  ledgers. 

"You  do  an  awful  business!"  commented  Mickey. 
"Your  car?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Douglas. 

"You're  doing  grand,  for  young  as  you  are." 

"I  haven't  done  it  all  myself,  Mickey,"  explained  Doug- 
las. "  I  happened  to  select  a  father  who  was  of  an  acquisi- 
tive turn  of  mind.  He  left  me  enough  that  I  can  have 
a  comfortable  living  in  a  small  way,  from  him." 

"Gee!  It's  lucky  you  got  the  Joy  Lady  then!"  ex- 
claimed Mickey.  "Maybe  you  wouldn't  ever  work  if 
you  didn't  have  her  to  scratch  for!" 

"I  always  have  worked  and  tried  to  make  something  of 
myself,"  said  Douglas. 

"Yes,  I  guess  you  have,"  conceded  Mickey.  "I  think 
it  shows  when  a  man  does.  It  just  shows  a  lot  on  you." 

"Thank  you,  Mickey!     Same  to  you!" 

"Aw,  nix  on  me!"  said  Mickey.  "I  ain't  nothing  on 
looks!  I  ain't  ever  looked  at  myself  enough  that  if  I  was 
sent  to  find  Michael  O'Halloran  I  mightn't  bring  in  some 
other  fellow." 


I76  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"But  you're  enough  acquainted  with  yourself  that  you 
wouldn't  bring  in  a  dirty  boy  with  a  mouth  full  of  swear- 
ing and  beer,"  suggested  Douglas. 

"Well  not  this  evening!"  cried  Mickey.  "On  a  gamble 
that  ain't  my  picture!" 

"If  it  were,  you  wouldn't  be  here!"  said  Douglas. 
"No,  nor  much  of  any  place  else  'cept  the  gutters,  alleys, 
and  the  police  court,"  affirmed  Mickey.     "That  ain't  my 
style!     I'd  like  to  be — well — about  like  you." 

"You  are  perfectly  welcome  to  all  I  have  and  am," 
said  Douglas.  "If  you  fail  to  take  advantage  of  the 
offer,  it  will  be  your  own  fault." 

"Yes,  I  guess  it  will,"  reflected  Mickey.  "You  gave 
me  the  chance.  I  am  to  blame  if  I  don't  cop  on  to  it, 
and  get  in  the  game.  I  like  you  fine!  Your  work  is 
more  interesting  than  odd  jobs  on  the  street,  and  you  pay 
like  a  plute.  You're  being  worked  though.  You  pay  too 
much.  If  I  work  for  you  it  would  save  you  money  to  let 
me  manage  that;  I  could  get  you  help  and  things  a  lot 
cheaper,  then  you  could  spend  what  you  save  on  the  Joy 
Lady,  making  her  more  joyous." 

"You  are  calling  Miss  Winton  the  Joy  Lady?" 
"Yes,"  said  Mickey.     "Doesn't  she  just  look  it?" 
"She  surely  does,"  agreed  Douglas.     "It's  a  good  title. 
I  know  only  two  that  are  better.     She  sows  happiness 
everywhere.     What  about  your  Lily  girl  and  her  doll?" 
"Doll  doesn't  go.     That's  a  Precious  Child!" 
"I  see!     Lily  is  a  little  girl  you  like,  Mickey?" 
"Lily  is  the  littlest  girl  you  ever  saw,"  answered  Mickey, 
"with  a  bad  back  so  that  she  hasn't  ever  walked;  and 


BIG  BROTHER  i77 

she's  so  sweet — she's  the  only  thing  I've  got  to  love,  so  I 
love  her  'til  it  hurts.  Her  back  is  one  thing  I'm  saving 
for.  I'm  going  to  have  it  Carreled  as  soon  as  I  get  money, 
and  she  grows  strong  enough  to  stand  it." 

"'Carreled?'"  queried  Douglas  wonderingly. 

"You  know  the  man  who  put  different  legs  on  a  dog?" 
said  Mickey.  "I  often  read  about  him  in  papers  I  sell. 
I  think  he  can  fix  her  back.  But  not  yet.  A  Sunshine 
Nurse  I  know  says  nobody  can  help  her  back  'til  she 
grows  a  lot  stronger  and  fatter.  She  has  to  have  milk  and 
be  rubbed  with  oil,  and  not  be  jerked  for  a  while  before 
it's  any  use  to  begin  on  her  back." 

"And  has  she  the  milk  and  the  oil  and  the  kindness?" 

"You  just  bet  she  has,"  said  Mickey.  "Her  family 
tends  to  that.  And  she  has  got  a  bed,  and  a  window,  and 
her  Precious  Child,  and  a  slate,  and  books." 

"That's  all  right  then,"  said  Douglas.  "Any  time  you 
see  she  needs  anything  Mickey,  I'd  be  glad  if  you  would 
tell  me  or  Miss  Winton.  She  loves  to  do  kind  things  to 
little  sick  children  to  make  them  happier." 

"So  do  I,"  said  Mickey.  "And  Lily  is  my  job.  But 
that  isn't  robbing  Miss  Joy  Lady.  She  can  love  herself 
to  death  if  she  wants  to  on  hundreds  of  little,  sick,  cold, 
miserable  children,  in  every  cellar  and  garret  and  tene- 
ment of  the  east  end  of  Multiopolis.  The  only  kind 
thing  God  did  for  them  out  there  was  to  give  them  the  first 
chance  at  sunrise.  Multiopolis  hasn't  ever  followed  His 
example  by  giving  them  anything." 

"You  mean  Miss  Winton  can  find  some  other  child  to 
love  and  care  for?"  asked  Douglas. 


i78  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey  emphatically.  "It's  hands  off 
Lily.  Her  family  is  taking  care  of  her,  so  she's  got  all 
she  needs  right  now." 

"That's  good!"  said  Bruce.     "Here  we  unload." 

They  entered  a  building  and  exchanged  the  books 
they  carried  for  others  which  Douglas  selected  with  care, 
then  returning  to  the  office,  locked  them  in  a  safe. 

"Now  I  am  driving  to  the  golf  grounds  for  an  hour's 
play,"  said  Douglas.  "Will  you  go  and  caddy  for  me?" 

"I  never  did.     I  don't  know  how,"  answered  Mickey. 

"You  can  learn,  can't  you?"  suggested  Douglas. 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "I've  seen  boys  carrying  golf 
clubs  that  hadn't  enough  sense  to  break  stone  right.  I 
can  learn,  but  my  learning  might  spoil  your  day's  sport." 

"It  would  be  no  big  price  to  pay  for  an  intelligent 
caddy,"  replied  Douglas. 

"Mr.  Bruce,  what  price  is  an  intelligent  caddy  worth?" 

"Our  Scotch  Club  pays  fifty  cents  a  game  and  each 
man  employs  his  own  boy  if  he  chooses.  The  club  used  to 
furnish  boys,  but  since  the  Big  Brother  movement  began, 
so  many  of  the  men  have  boys  in  their  offices  they  are 
accustomed  to,  and  want  to  give  a  run  over  the  hills  after 
the  day's  work,  that  the  rule  has  been  changed.  I  can 
employ  you,  if  you  want  to  serve  me." 

"I'd  go  to  the  country  in  the  car  with  you,  every  day  you 
play,  and  carry  your  clubs?"  asked  Mickey  wonderingly. 

"Yes,"  answered  Douglas. 

"Over  real  hills,  where  there's  trees,  grass,  cows  and 
water?"  questioned  Mickey. 

"Yes,"  repeated  Douglas. 


BIG  BROTHER  179 

"What  time  would  we  get  back?"  he  asked. 

"Depends  on  how  late  I  play,  and  whether  I  have  din- 
ner at  the  club  house,  say  seven  as  a  rule,  maybe  ten  or 
later  at  times." 

"Nothing  doing!"  said  Mickey  promptly.  "I  got  to 
be  home  at  six  by  the  clock  every  day,  even  if  we  were  en- 
gaged in  'hurling  back  the  enemy.'  See?" 

"But  Mickey!  That  spoils  everything!"  cried  Doug- 
las. "Of  course  you  could  work  for  me  the  remainder  of 
the  day  if  you  wanted  to,  and  I  could  keep  my  old  club- 
house caddy,  but  I  want  you.  You  want  the  ride  in  the 
country,  you  want  the  walk,  you  need  the  change  and  rec- 
reation. You  are  not  a  real  boy  if  you  don't  want  that!" 

"I'm  so  real,  I'm  two  boys  if  wanting  it  counts,  but  it 
doesn't!"  said  Mickey.  "You  see  I  got  a.  job  for  evening. 
I'm  promised.  I'd  rather  do  what  you  want  than  any- 
thing I  ever  saw  or  heard  of,  except  just  this.  I've  given 
my  word,  and  I'm  depended  on.  I  couldn't  give  up  this 
work,  and  I  wouldn't,  if  I  could.  Even  golf  ain't  in  it  with 
this  job  that  I'm  on." 

"What  is  your  work  Mickey?" 

"Oh  I  ain't  ever  exactly  certain,"  said  Mickey.  "Some- 
times it  is  one  thing,  sometimes  it  is  another,  but  always 
it's  something,  and  it's  work  for  a  party  I  couldn't  disap- 
point, not  noways,  not  for  all  the  golf  in  the  world." 

"You  are  sure?"  persisted  Douglas. 

"Dead  sure  with  no  changing,"  said  Mickey. 

"All  right  then.     I'm  sorry!"  exclaimed  Douglas. 

"So  am  I,"  said  Mickey.     "But  not  about  the  job!" 

Douglas  laughed.     "Well  come  along  this  evening  and 


1 8o  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

look  on.  I'll  be  back  before  six  and  I'll  run  you  where  we 
did  last  night,  if  that  is  close  your  home." 

"Thanks,"  said  Mickey.  "I'd  love  to,  but  you  needn't 
bother  about  taking  me  home.  I  can  make  it  if  I  start  at 
six.  Shall  I  take  the  things  back  to  the  cafe?" 

"Let  them  go  until  morning,"  said  Douglas. 

"What  becomes  of  the  little  cakes?" 

"Their  fate  is  undecided.     Have  you  any  suggestions  ? " 

"I  should  worry!"  he  exclaimed.  "They'd  fit  my 
pocket.  I  could  hike  past  the  hospital  and  ask  the  Sun- 
shine Lady;  if  she  said  so,  I  could  take  them  to  Lily.  Bet 
she  never  tasted  any  like  them.  If  it's  between  her  and 
the  cafe  selling  them  over,  s'pose  she  takes  the  cake?" 

Mickey's  face  was  one  big  insinuating,  suggestive  smile. 
Douglas'  was  another. 

"  Suppose  she  does,"  he  agreed. 

"  I  must  wrap  them,"  said  Mickey.  "  Have  to  be  careful 
about  Lily.  If  she's  fed  dirty,  wrong  stuff,  it  will  make 
fever  so  her  back  will  get  worse  instead  of  better." 

"Will  a  clean  envelope  do?"  suggested  Douglas. 

"That  would  cost  you  two  cents,"  said  Mickey. 
"Haven't  you  something  cheaper?" 

"What  about  a  sheet  of  paper?"  hazarded  Douglas. 

"Fine!"  said  Mickey,  "and  only  half  as  expensive." 

So  they  wrapped  the  little  cakes  and  closed  the  office. 
Then  Douglas  said:  "Now  this  ends  work  for  the  day. 
Next  comes  playtime." 

"Then  before  we  begin  to  play  we  ought  to  finish  busi- 
ness," said  Mickey.  "  I  have  been  thinking  over  what  you 
said  the  other  day,  and  while  I  was  right  about  some  of  it, 


BIG  BROTHER  181 

I  was  mistaken  about  part.  I  ain't  changing  anything  I 
said  about  Minturn  men  and  his  sort,  and  millyingaire  men 
and  their  sort;  but  you  ain't  that  kind  of  a  man 

"Thank  you,  Mickey,"  said  Douglas. 

"No  you  ain't  that  kind  of  a  man,"  continued  Mickey. 
"And  you  are  just  the  kind  of  a  man  I'd  like  to  be;  so  if  the 
door  ain't  shut,  guess  I'll  stick  around  afternoons." 

"Not  all  day?"  inquired  Douglas. 

"Well  you  see  I  am  in  the  paper  business  and  that  takes 
all  morning,"  explained  Mickey.  "I  can  always  finish 
my  first  batch  by  noon,  lots  of  times  by  ten;  from  that  on 
to  six  I  could  work  for  you." 

"Don't  you  think  you  could  earn  more  with  me,  and  in 
the  winter  at  least,  be  more  comfortable?"  asked  Douglas. 

"Winter!"  cried  Mickey,  his  face  whitening. 

"Yes,"  said  Douglas.  "The  newsboys  always  look 
frightfully  cold  in  winter." 

"Winter!"     It  was  a  piteous  cry. 

"What  is  it,  Mickey?"  questioned  Bruce  kindly. 

"You  know  I  forgot  it,"  he  said.  "I  was  so  took  up 
with  what  I  was  doing,  and  thinking  right  now,  that  I  for- 
got a  time  ever  was  coming  when  it  gets  blue  cold,  and  little 
kids  freeze.  Gee!  I  almost  wish  I  hadn't  thought  of  it. 
I  guess  I  better  sell  my  paper  business,  and  come  with  you 
all  day.  I  know  I  could  earn  more.  I  just  sort  of  hate  to 
give  up  the  papers.  I  been  at  them  so  long.  I've  had 
such  a  good  time.  '  I  like  to  sell  papers ! '  That's  the  way 
I  always  start  my  cry,  and  I  do.  I  just  love  to.  I  sell  to 
about  the  same  bunch  every  morning,  and  most  of  my  men 
know  me,  and  they  always  say  a  word,  and  I  like  the  rush 


1 82  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

and  excitement  and  the  things  that  happen,  and  the  look- 
ing for  chances  on  the  side " 

"There's  messenger  work  in  my  business." 

"I  see!  I  like  that!  I  like  your  work  all  right,"  said 
Mickey.  "Gimme  a  few  days  to  sell  my  route  to  the  best 
advantage  I  can,  and  I'll  come  all  day.  I'll  come  for 
about  a  half  what  you  are  paying  now." 

"But  you  admit  you  need  money  urgently." 

"Well  not  so  urgently  as  to  skin  a  friend  to  get  it — not 
sven  with  the  winter  I  hadn't  thought  of  coming.  Gee — 
I  don't  know  just  what  I  am  going  to  do  about  that." 

"For  yourself,  Mickey?"  inquired  Douglas. 

"Well  in  a  way,  yes,"  hesitated  Mickey.  "There  are 
things  to  think  about!  Gee  I  got  to  hump  myself  while  the 
sun  shines!  If  you  say  so,  then  I'll  get  out  of  the  paper 
business  as  soon  as  I  can;  and  I'll  begin  work  for  you  steady 
at  noon  to-morrow.  I've  seen  you  pay  out  over  seven  to- 
day. I'll  come  for  six.  Is  it  a  bargain?" 

"No,"  said  Douglas,  "it  isn't!  The  janitor  bill  was 
for  a  week  of  half-done  work.  The  messenger  bill  was  for 
two  days,  no  caddying  at  all.  If  you  come  you  will  come 
for  not  less  than  eight  and  what  you  earn  extra  over  that. 
I  don't  agree  to  better  service  for  less  pay.  If  you  will 
have  things  between  us  on  a  commercial  basis,  so  will 
I." 

"Oh  the  Big  Brother  business  would  be  all  right — with 
you,"  conceded  Mickey,  "but  I  don't  just  like  the  way  it's 
managed,  mostly.  God  didn't  make  us  brothers  no  more 
than  he  did  all  men,  so  we  better  not  butt  in  and  try  to 
fix  things  over  for  Him.  Looks  to  me  like  we  might  cut 


BIG  BROTHER  183 

the  brother  business  and  just  be  friends.  I  could  be  an 
awful  good  friend  to  you,  honest  I  could!" 

"And  I  to  you  Mickey,"  said  Douglas  Bruce,  holding 
out  his  hand.  "Have  it  as  you  will.  Friends,  then! 
Look  for  you  at  noon  to-morrow.  Now  we  play.  Hop  in 
and  we'll  run  to  my  rooms  and  get  my  clubs." 

"Shall  I  sit  up  with  your  man?"  asked  Mickey. 

"My  friends  sit  beside  me,"  said  Douglas. 

Mickey  spoke  softly:  "Yes,  but  if  I  watched  him  sharp, 
maybe  I  could  get  the  hang  of  driving  for  you.  Think 
what  a  lump  that  would  save.  When  I'm  going,  I'd  love 
to  drive,  just  for  the  fun  of  it." 

"And  I  wouldn't  allow  you  to  drive  for  less  than  I  pay 
him,"  said  Douglas. 

"I  don't  see  why!"  exclaimed  Mickey. 

"When  you  grow  older  and  know  me  better,  you  will." 

While  the  car  was  running  its  smoothest,  while  the 
country  Mickey  had  not  seen  save  on  rare  newsboy  ex- 
cursions, flashed  past,  while  the  wonder  of  the  club  house, 
the  links,  and  the  work  he  would  have  loved  to  do  de- 
veloped, he  shivered  and  cried  in  his  tormented  little  soul: 
"  Gee,  how  will  I  ever  keep  Lily  warm  ? "  Douglas  noticed 
his  abstraction  and  wondered.  He  had  expected  more  ap- 
preciation of  what  Mickey  was  seeing  and  doing;  he  was 
coming  to  the  realization  that  he  would  find  out  what  was 
in  the  boy's  heart  in  his  own  time  and  way.  On  the  home 
run,  when  Douglas  reached  his  rooms,  he  told  the  driver  to 
take  Mickey  to  the  end  of  the  car  line;  the  boy  shyly  inter- 
posed to  ask  if  he  might  go  to  the  "Star  of  Hope  Hospital," 
so  Douglas  changed  the  order. 


184  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Mickey's  passport  held  good  at  the  hospital.  The  Sun- 
shine Nurse  inspected  the  cakes  and  approved  them.  She 
was  so  particular  she  even  took  a  tiny  nibble  of  one  and 
said :  "  Sugar,  flour,  egg  and  shortening — all  right  Mickey, 
those  can't  hurt  her.  And  how  is  she  to-day?" 

"Fine!"  cried  Mickey.  "She  is  getting  a  lot  stronger 
already.  She  can  sit  up  longer  and  help  herself  better,  and 
she's  got  ribbons,  the  prettiest  you  ever  laid  eyes  on,  that  a 
lady  gave  me  for  her  hair,  and  they  make  her  pink  and 
nicer;  and  she's  got  a  baby  doll  in  long  clean  white  dresses 
to  snuggle  down  and  stay  with  her  all  day;  and  she's  got  a 
slate,  and  a  book,  and  she  knows  'cow'  and  'milk'  and  my 
name,  and  to-day  she  is  learning  'bread.'  To-morrow  I 
am  going  to  teach  her  'baby,'  and  she  can  say  her  prayer 
too  nice  for  anything,  once  we  got  it  fixed  so  she'd  say  it  at 
all." 

"What  did  you  teach  her,  Mickey?" 

"Now  I  lay  me,'  only  Lily  wouldn't  say  it  the  way  She 
taught  me.  You  see  Lily  was  all  alone  with  her  granny 
when  she  winked  out  and  it  scared  her  most  stiff,  so  when 
I  got  to  that  'If  I  should  die  before  I  wake,'  line,  she  just 
went  into  fits,  and  remembering  what  I'd  seen  myself,  I 
didn't  blame  her;  so  I  changed  it  for  her  'til  she  liked  it." 

"Tell  me  about  it,  Mickey?"  said  the  nurse. 

"Well  you  see  she  has  a  window,  so  she  can  see  the  stars 
and  the  sun.  She  knows  them,  so  I  just  shifted  the  old  sad, 
scary  lines  to: 


'Guard  me  through  the  starry  night, 
Wake  me  safe  with  sunshine  bright!" 


BIG  BROTHER  185 

"But  Mickey,  that's  lovely!"  cried  the  nurse.  "Wait 
till  I  write  it  down !  I'll  teach  it  to  my  little  people.  Half 
of  them  come  here  knowing  that  prayer  and  when  they  are 
ill,  they  begin  to  think  about  it.  Some  of  them  are  old 
enough  to  worry  over  it.  Why  you're  a  poet,  Mickey!" 

"Sure!"  conceded  Mickey.  "That's  what  I'm  going  to 
be  when  I  get  through  school.  I'm  going  to  write  a  poetry 
piece  about  Lily  for  the  first  sheet  of  the  Herald  that'll  be 
so  good  they'll  pay  me  to  write  one  every  day,  but  all  of 
them  will  be  about  her." 

"Mickey,  is  there  enough  of  such  a  little  girl  to  furnish 
one  every  day?"  asked  the  nurse. 

"Surest  thing  you  know!"  cried  Mickey  enthusiasti- 
cally. "Why  there  are  the  hundred  gold  rings  on  her 
head,  one  for  each;  and  her  eyes,  tender  and  teasy,  and  sad 
and  glad,  one  for  each;  and  the  colour  of  them  different  a 
dozen  times  a  day,  and  her  little  white  face,  and  her  lips, 
and  her  smile,  and  when  she's  good,  and  when  she's  bad; 
why  Miss,  there's  enough  of  Lily  for  a  book  big  as  Mr. 
Bruce's  biggest  law  book." 

"Well  Mickey!"  cried  the  girl  laughing.  "There's  no 
question  but  you  will  write  the  poetry,  only  I  can't  recon- 
cile it  with  the  kind  of  a  hustler  you  are.  I  thought  poets 
were  languid,  dreamy,  up-in-the-clouds  kind  of  people." 

"So  they  are,"  explained  Mickey.  "That  comes  later. 
First  I  got  to  hustle  to  get  Lily's  back  Carreled  and  us 
through  school,  and  ready  to  write  the  poetry;  then  it  will 
take  so  much  dreaming  to  think  out  what  is  nicest  about 
her,  and  how  to  say  it  best,  that  it  would  make  any  fellow 
languid — you  can  see  how  that  would  be!" 


186  '  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Yes,  I  see!"  conceded  the  nurse.  "Mickey,  by  Car- 
reling  her  back,  do  you  mean  Dr.  Carrel?" 

"Sure!"  cried  Mickey.  "You  see  I  read  a  lot  about 
him  in  the  papers  I  sell.  He's  the  biggest  man  in  the  world  ! 
He's  bigger  than  emperors  and  kings!  They — why  the 
biggest  thing  they  can  do  is  to  kill  all  their  strongest, 
bravest  men.  He's  so  much  bigger  than  kings,  that  he  can 
cake  men  they  shoot  to  pieces  and  put  them  together  again. 
Killing  men  ain't  much!  Anybody  can  do  killing!  Look 
at  him  making  folks  live!  Gee,  hes  big ! " 

"And  you  think  he  can  make  Lily's  back  better?" 

"Why  I  know  he  can!"  said  Mickey  earnestly.  "That 
wouldn't  be  a  patching  to  what  he  has  done!  Soon  as  you 
say  she  is  strong  enough,  I'm  going  to  write  to  him  and 
tell  him  all  about  her,  and  when  I  get  the  money  saved, 
he'll  come  and  fix  her.  Sure  he  will!" 

"If  you  could  get  to  him  and  tell  him  yourself,  I  really 
believe  he  would,"  marvelled  the  nurse.  "But  you  see 
it's  like  this,  Mickey:  when  men  are  as  great  as  he  is, 
just  thousands  of  people  want  everything  of  them,  and 
write  letters  by  the  hundreds,  and  if  all  of  them  were 
read  there  would  be  time  for  nothing  else,  so  a  secre- 
tary opens  the  mail  and  decides  what  is  important,  and 
that  way  the  big  people  don't  always  know  about  the 
ones  they  would  answer  if  they  were  doing  it.  He's  been 
here  in  this  very  hospital;  I've  seen  him  operate  once. 
Next  time  a  perfectly  wonderful  case  comes  in,  that  is  in 
his  peculiar  line,  no  doubt  he  will  be  notified  and  come 
again.  Then  if  I  could  get  word  to  you,  and  you  could 
get  Lily  here,  possibly — just  possibly  he  would  listen  to 


BIG  BROTHER  187 

you  and  look  at  her — of  course  I  can't  say  surely  he 
would — but  I  think  he  would!" 

"Why  of  course  he  would!"  triumphed  Mickey.  "Of 
course  he  would!  He'd  be  tickled  to  pieces!  He'd  just 
love  to!  Any  man  would!  Why  a  white  little  flowersy- 
girl  who  can't  walk !" 

"If  you  could  reach  him,  I  really  think  he  would,"  said 
the  nurse  positively. 

"Well  just  you  gimme  a  hint  that  he's  here,  and  see 
if  I  don't  get  to  him,"  said  Mickey. 

"Is  there  any  place  I'd  be  certain  to  find  you  quickly,  if 
a  chance  should  come?"  she  asked.  "One  never  can  tell. 
He  might  not  be  here  in  years,  but  he  might  be  called, 
and  come,  to-morrow." 

"Why  yes!"  cried  Mickey.  "Why  of  course!  Why 
the  telephone!  Call  me  where  I  work!" 

"But  I  thought  you  were  a  'newsy!'"  said  the  nurse. 

"Well  I  was,"  explained  Mickey  lifting  his  head,  "but 
I've  give  up  the  papers.  I've  graduated.  I'm  going  to 
sell  out  to-morrow.  I'm  going  to  work  permanent  for  Mr. 
Douglas  Bruce.  He's  the  biggest  lawyer  in  Multiopolis. 
He's  got  an  office  in  the  Iriquois  Building,  and  his  call  is 
5OO-X.  Write  that  down  too  and  put  it  where  you  can't 
lose  it.  He's  just  a  grand  man.  He  asked  about  Lily 
to-day.  He  said  any  time  he'd  do  things  for  her.  Sure 
he  would!  He'd  stop  saving  the  taxpayers  of  Multi- 
opolis, and  take  his  car,  and  go  like  greased  lightning  for 
a  little  sick  girl.  He's  the  grandest  man  and  he's  got  a  Joy 
Lady  that  puts  in  most  of  her  time  making  folks  happy. 
Either  of  them  would!  Why  it's  too  easy  to  talk  about J 


1 88  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

You  call  me,  I  take  a  car  and  bring  her  scooting!  If  I'd 
see  Lily  standing  on  her  feet,  stepping  right  out  like  other 
folks,  I'd  be  so  happy  I'd  almost  bust  wide  open.  Honest 
I  would!  If  he  does  come,  you'd  try  hard  to  get  me  a 
chance,  wouldn't  you?" 

"I'd  try  as  hard  for  you  as  I  would  for  myself  Mickey; 
I  couldn't  promise  more,"  she  said. 

"Lily's  as  good  as  fixed,"  exulted  Mickey.  "Why 
there  is  that  big  easy  car  standing  down  in  the  street 
waiting  to  take  me  home  right  now." 

"Does  Douglas  Bruce  send  you  home  in  his  car?" 

"Oh  no,  not  regular!  This  is  extra!  Work  is  over 
for  to-day  so  we  went  to  the  golf  links;  then  he  lets  his 
man  take  me  while  he  bathes  and  dresses  to  go  to  his 
Joy  Lady.  Gee,  I  got  to  hurry  or  I'll  make  the  car  late; 
but  I  can  talk  with  you  all  you  will.  I  can  send  the  car 
back  and  walk  or  hop  a  'tricity-wagon." 

"Which  is  a  street  car?"  queried  the  nurse. 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey. 

"Well  go  hop  it!"  she  laughed.  "I  can't  spare  more 
time  now,  but  I  won't  forget,  Mickey;  and  if  he  comes 
I'll  keep  him  till  you  get  here,  if  I  have  to  chain  him." 

"You  go  to  it!"  cried  Mickey.  "And  I'll  begin  praying 
that  he  comes  soon,  and  I'll  just  pray  and  pray  so  long  and 
so  hard,  the  Lord  will  send  him  quick  to  get  rid  of  being 
asked  so  constant.  No  I  won't  either!  Well  wouldn't 
that  rattle  your  slats?" 

"What,  Mickey?"  asked  the  nurse. 

''Why  don't  you  see  ?  "  cried  Mickey. 

•'No,  I  don't  see,"  admitted  the  girl. 


BIG  BROTHER  189 

"Well  I  do!"  said  Mickey.  "What  would  be  square 
about  that  ?  Why  that  would  be  asking  the  Lord  to  make 
maybe  some  other  little  girl  so  sick,  the  Carrel  man 
would  be  sent  for,  so  I'd  get  my  chance  for  Lily.  That 
ain't  business!  I  wouldn't  have  the  cheek!  What 
would  the  Lord  think  of  me  ?  He  wouldn't  come  in  a  mile 
of  doing  it.  I  wouldn't  come  in  ten  miles  of  having  the 
nerve  to  ask  him.  I  do  get  up  against  it  'til  my  head 
swims.  And  there  is  winter  coming,  too!" 

The  nurse  put  her  arm  around  Mickey  again,  and  gently 
propelled  him  toward  the  elevator. 

"Mickey,"  she  said  softly,  her  lips  nipping  his  fair  hair, 
"God  doesn't  give  many  of  us  your  clear  vision  and  your 
big  heart.  I'd  have  asked  him  that,  with  never  a  thought 
of  who  would  have  to  be  ill  to  bring  Dr.  Carrel  here.  But 
I'll  tell  you.  You  can  pray  this  with  a  clean  conscience: 
you  can  ask  God  if  the  doctor  does  come,  to  put  it  into 
his  heart  to  hear  you,  and  to  examine  Lily.  That  wouldn't 
be  asking  ill  for  any  one  else  so  that  you  might  profit  by  it. 
And  dear  laddie,  don't  worry  about  winter.  This  city  is 
still  taking  care  of  its  taxpayers.  You  do  your  best  for 
Lily  all  summer,  and  when  winter  comes,  if  you're  not 
fixed  for  it,  I  will  see  what  your  share  is  and  you  can  have 
it  in  a  stove  that  will  burn  warm  a  whole  day,  and  lots 
of  coal,  plenty  of  it.  I  know  I  can  arrange  that." 

"Gee,  you're  great!"  he  cried.  "This  is  the  biggest 
thing  that  ever  happened  to  me!  I  see  now  what  I  can 
ask  Him  on  the  square;  so  it's  business  and  all  right;  and 
Mr.  Bruce  or  Miss  Leslie  will  loan  me  a  car,  and  if  you  see 
about  the  stove  and  the  coal  the  city  has  for  me" — in  came 


J9o  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

IViickey's  royal  flourish — "why  dearest  Nurse  Lady,  Lily 
is  as  good  as  walking  right  now!  Gee!  In  my  place 
would  you  tell  her?" 

"  I  surely  would,"  said  the  nurse.  "  It  will  do  her  good. 
It  will  give  her  hope.  Dr.  Carrel  isn't  the  only  one  who 
can  perform  miracles;  if  he  doesn't  come  by  the  time  Lily 
is  strong  enough  to  bear  the  strain  of  being  operated,  we 
can  try  some  other  great  man;  and  if  she  is  shy,  and  timid 
from  having  been  alone  so  much,  expecting  it  will  make  it 
easier  for  her.  By  the  way,  wait  until  I  bring  some  little 
gifts,  I  and  three  of  my  friends  have  made  for  her  in  our 
spare  time.  I  think  your  mother's  night  dresses  must  be 
big  and  uncomfortable  for  her,  even  as  you  cut  them  off. 
Try  these.  Give  her  a  fresh  one  each  day.  It  is  going  to 
be  dreadfully  hot  soon.  When  she  has  used  two,  bring 
them  here  and  I'll  have  them  washed  for  you." 

"Now  nix  on  that!"  said  Mickey.  "You're  a  shining 
angel  bright  to  sew  them  for  her,  I'm  crazy  over  them,  but 
I  wash  them.  Mother  showed  me.  That  will  be  my 
share.  I  can  do  it  fine.  And  they  will  be  better!  She's 
so  lost  in  mother's,  I  have  to  shake  them  to  find 
her!" 

They  laughed  together,  then  Mickey  sped  to  the  side- 
walk and  ordered  the  car  back. 

"I've  been  too  long,"  he  said.  "Nurse  Lady  had  some 
things  to  tell  me  about  a  little  sick  girl  and  I  was  glad  to 
miss  my  ride  for  them.  Mr.  Bruce  will  be  ready  by  now. 
You  go  where  he  told  you." 

"I  got  twenty-seven  minutes  yet,"  said  the  driver. 
"  I  can  take  you  at  least  almost  there.  Hop  in." 


BIG  BROTHER  191 

"Mither  o'  Mike!"  cried  Mickey.  "Is  that  all  there 
is  to  it  ?  Gee,  how  I'd  like  to  have  a  try  at  it." 

"Are  you  going  to  be  in  Mr.  Bruce's  office  from  now 
on?"  asked  the  driver. 

"If  I  can  sell  my  paper  line,"  answered  Mickey. 

"Got  a  good  route?"  inquired  the  man. 

"Best  of  any  boy  in  my  district,"  said  Mickey.  "I 
like  to  sell  papers.  I  got  it  down  fine!" 

"I  guess  you  have,"  said  the  driver.  "I  know  your 
voice,  and  everybody  on  your  street  knows  that  cry.  Your 
route  ought  to  be  worth  a  fair  price.  I  got  a  kid  that 
wants  a  paper  start.  What  would  you  ask  to  take  him 
over  your  round  and  tell  the  men  you  are  turning  your 
business  over  to  him,  and  teach  him  your  cries?" 

"Hum-m-m-m!"  said  Mickey.  "My  cry  is  whatever 
has  the  biggest  headlines  on  the  front  page,  mixed  in  with 
a  lot  of  joyous  fooling,  and  I'd  have  to  see  your  boy  'fore 
I'd  say  if  I  could  teach  him.  Is  he  a  clean  kid  with  a  joy- 
ous face,  and  his  anatomy  decorated  with  a  fine  large 
hump?  That's  the  only  kind  that  gets  my  job.  I  won't 
have  my  nice  men  made  sore  all  day  'cause  they  start  it. 
by  seeing  a  kid  with  a  boiled-owl  face." 

"You  think  a  happy  face  sells  most  papers?" 

"Know  it!"  said  Mickey,  "'cause  I  wear  it  en  the  job, 
and  I  get  away  with  the  rest  of  them  three  tidies  and  com- 
ing. Same  everywhere  as  with  the  papers.  A  happy  face 
would  work  with  your  job,  if  you'd  loosen  up  a  link  or  two,, 
and  tackle  it.  It  may  crack  your  complexion,  if  you  start 
too  violent,  but  taking  it  by  easy  runs  and  greasing  the 
ways  'fore  you  cut  your  cable,  I  believe  you'd  survive  it!" 


i92  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Mickey  flushed  and  grinned  in  embarrassment  when 
people  half  a  block  away  turned  to  look  at  his  driver,  and 
the  boy's  mouth  opened  as  a  traffic  policeman  smiled  in 
sympathy  when  he  waved  his  club,  signalling  them  to 
cross.  Mickey  straightened  up  reassured. 

"Did  you  get  that  ?"  he  inquired. 

""I  got  it!"  said  the  driver.  "But  it  won't  ever  happen 
again.  McFinley  has  been  on  that  crossing  for  five  years 
and  that's  his  first  smile  on  the  job." 

"Then  make  it  your  business  to  see  that  it  ain't  his 
last !"  advised  Mickey.  "There's  no  use  growing  morgue 
lines  on  your  mug;  with  all  May  running  wild  just  to  please 
you  and  the  man  in  the  moon;  loosen  up,  if  you  have  to 
tickle  your  liver  with  a  torpedo  to  start  you!" 

"You  brass  monkey!"  said  the  driver.  "You  climb 
down  right  here,  before  I'm  arrested  for  a  plain 
drunk." 

"  Don't  you  think  it,"  called  Mickey.  "  If  you  like  your 
job,  man,  cotton  up  to  it;  chuckle  it  under  the  chin,  and 
get  real  familiar.  See?  Try  grin,  'stead  of  grouch  just 
one  day  and  watch  if  the  whole  world  doesn't  look  better 
before  night." 

"Thanks  kid,  I'll  think  it  over!"  promised  the  driver. 

Mickey  hurried  home  to  Peaches.  He  hid  the  cake  and 
the  hospital  '->ox  under  the  things  he  bought  for  supper  and 
went  to  her  \,  :th  empty  hands.  He  could  see  she  was 
tired  and  hungry,  so  he  gave  her  a  drink  of  milk,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  the  sponge  bath  and  oil  rub.  These  rested  and 
refreshed  her  so  that  Mickey  demanded  closed  eyes,  while 
he  slipped  the  dainty  night-robe  over  her  head,  and  tied 


BIG  BROTHER  193 

the  pink  ribbon  on  her  curls.  Then  he  piled  the  pillows, 
leaned  her  against  them  and  brought  the  mirror. 

"Now  open  your  peepers,  Flowersy-girl,  and  tell  me  how 
Miss  O'Halloran  strikes  you!"  he  exulted. 

Peaches  took  one  long  look.  She  opened  her  mouth. 
Then  she  turned  to  Mickey  and  shut  her  mouth;  shut  it 
and  clapped  both  hands  over  it;  so  that  he  saw  the  very- 
act  of  strangling  a  phrase  he  would  have  condemned. 

"That's  a  nice  lady!"  he  commented  in  joy.  "Now  let 
me  tell  you!  You  got  four  of  these  gorgeous  garments, 
each  one  made  by  a  different  nurse-lady,  while  she  was 
resting.  Every  day  you  get  a  clean  one,  and  I  wash  the 
one  you  wore  last,  careful  and  easy  not  to  tear  the  lacy 
places.  Ain't  they  the  gladdest  rags  you  ever  saw!" 

Peaches  gasped:  "Mickey,  I'll  bust!" 

"Go  on  and  bust  then!"  conceded  Mickey.  "Bust  if 
you  must;  but  don't  you  dare  say  no  words  that  ain't  for 
the  ladiest  of  ladies,  in  that  beautiful,  softy,  white  dress." 

Peaches  set  her  lips,  stretching  her  arms  widely.  She 
sat  straighter  than  Mickey  ever  had  seen  her,  lifting 
her  head  higher.  Gradually  a  smile  crept  over  her  face. 
She  was  seeing  a  very  pinched,  white  little  girl,  with  a 
shower  of  yellow  curls  bound  with  a  pink  ribbon  tied  in  a 
big  bow;  wearing  a  dainty  night  dress  with  a  fancy  yoke 
run  with  pink  ribbons  tied  under  her  chin  and  at  her 
elbows.  She  crooked  an  arm,  primped  her  mouth,  and 
peered  at  the  puffed  sleeves,  then  hastily  gulped  down 
whatever  she  had  been  tempted  to  say. 

Again  Mickey  approved.  Despite  protests  he  removed 
the  mirror,  then  put  the  doll  in  her  arms.  "Now  you  line 


i94  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

up,"  he  said.     "Now  you  look  alike!     After  you  get  your 
supper,  comes  the  joy  part  for  sure." 

"More  joyous  than  this?"  Peaches  surveyed  herself. 

"Yes,  Miss!  The  joyousest  thing  of  all  the  world  that 
could  happen  to  you,"  he  said. 

"But  Mickey-lovest!"  she  cried  in  protest.  "You 
know — you  know — what  that  would  be!" 

"Sure  I  know!"  said  Mickey. 

"I  don't  believe  it!     It  never  could!"  she  cried. 

"There  you  go!"  said  Mickey  in  exasperation.  "You 
make  me  think  of  them  Texas  bronchos  kicking  at  every- 
thing on  earth,  in  the  Wild  West  shows  every  spring. 
Honest  you  do!" 

"Mickey,  you  forgot  my  po'try  piece  to-night!"  she  in- 
terposed hastily. 

"What  you  want  a  poetry  piece  for  with  such  a  dress 
and  ribbon  as  you  got?"  he  demanded. 

"I  like  the  po'try  piece  better  than  the  dress  or  the  rib- 
bon," she  asserted  positively. 

"You'll  be  saying  better  than  the  baby,  next!" 

"Yes,  an'  better  than  the  baby!" 

"You  look  out  Miss,"  marvelled  Mickey.  "You  got  to 
tell  true  or  you  can't  be  my  family." 

"Sure  and  true!"  said  Peaches  emphatically. 

"Well  if  I  ever!"  cried  Mickey.  "I  didn't  think  you 
was  that  silly!" 

'Tain't  silly!"  said  Peaches.  "The  po'try  pieces  is 
you  !  Tain't  silly  to  like  you  better  than  a  dress,  and  a 
ribbon,  or  a  Precious  Child.  I  want  my  piece  now!" 

"Well  I've  been  so  busy  to-day,  I  forgot  your  piece, 


BIG  BROTHER  195 

said  Mickey.  '  'Nough  things  have  happened  to  make  me 
forget  my  head,  if  'twasn't  fast.  I  forgot  your  piece.  I 
thought  you'd  like  the  dress  and  the  joyous  thing  better."" 

"Then  you  didn't  forget  it!"  cried  Peaches.  "You 
thought  something  else,  and  you  thought  what  ain't!  So 
there!  I  want  my  po'try  piece!" 

"Well  do  you  want  it  worse  than  your  supper?"  de- 
manded Mickey. 

"Yes  I  do!"  said  Peaches. 

"Well  use  me  for  a  mop!"  cried  Mickey.  "Then  you'll 
have  to  wait  'til  I  make  one." 

"Go  on  and  make  it!"  ordered  the  child. 

"Well  how  do  you  like  this?" 

"Once  a  stubborn  little  kicker, 
Kicked  until  she  made  me  snicker. 
If  she  had  wings,  she  couldn't  fly, 
'Cause  she'd  be  too  stubborn  to  try/' 

A  belligerent  look  slowly  spread  over  Peaches'  face. 

" That's  no  po'try  piece,"  she  scoffed,  "an'  I  don't  like 
it  at  all,  an'  I  won't  write  it  on  my  slate;  not  if  I  never 
learn  to  write  anything.  Mickey-lovest,  please  make  a 
nice  one  to  save  for  my  book.  It's  going  to  have  three  on 
ev'ry  page,  an'  a  nice  piece  o'  sky  like  right  up  there  for 
backs,  and  mebby — mebby  a  cow  on  it!" 

"Sure  a  cow  on  it,"  agreed  Mickey.  "I  saw  a  lot  to- 
day! I'll  tell  you  after  supper.  Gimme  a  little  time  to 
think.  I  can't  do  nice  ones  right  off." 

"You  did  that  one  right  off,"  said  Peaches. 

"Sure!"  answered  Mickey.  "I  was  a  little — a  little — 
perv^ked  !  And  you  said  that  wasn't  a  nice  one." 


196  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"And  so  it  wasn't!"  asserted  Peaches  positively. 

"If  I  have  a  nice  one  ready  when  I  bring  supper,  will 
that  do?"  questioned  Mickey. 

"Yes,"  said  Peaches.  "But  I  won't  eat  my  supper  'til 
I  have  it." 

"Now  don't  you  get  too  bossy,  Miss  Chicken,"  warned 
Mickey.  "There's  a  surprise  in  this  supper  like  you  never 
had  in  all  your  life.  I  guess  you'd  eat  it,  if  you'd  see  it." 

"I  wouldn't  'til  I  had  my  po'try  piece." 

In  consideration  of  the  poetry  piece  Mickey  desisted. 
The  inference  was  too  flattering.  Between  narrowed  lids 
he  looked  at  Lily.  "You  fool  sweet  little  kid,"  he  mut- 
tered. Then  he  prepared  supper.  When  he  set  it  on  the 
table  he  bent  over  and  taking  both  hands  he  said  gently: 

"  Flowersy-girl  of  moonbeam  white, 
Golden  head  of  sunshine  bright, 
Dancing  eyes  of  sky's  own  blue, 
No  other  flower  in  the  world  like  you." 

"Get  the  slate!"  cried  Peaches.  "Get  the  slate!  Now 
that's  a  po'try  piece.  That's  the  best  one  yet.  I'm  going 
to  put  that  right  under  the  cow!" 

"  Sure ! "  said  Mickey.  "  I  think  that's  the  best  yet  my- 
self. You  see,  you  make  them  come  better  every  time, 
'cause  you  get  so  much  sweeter  every  day." 

"Then  why  did  you  make  the  bad  one?"  she  pouted. 

"Well  every  time  you  just  yell  'I  won't,'  without  ever 
giving  me  a  chance  to  tell  you  what  I'm  going  to  do,  or 
why,"  explained  Mickey.  "If  only  you'd  learn  to  wait  a 
little,  you'd  do  better.  If  I  was  to  tell  you  that  Carrel 
man  was  at  the  door  with  a  new  back  for  you,  if  you 


BIG  BROTHER  197 

turn  over  and  let  him  put  it  in,  I  s'pose  you'd  yell:  'I 

won't!'" 

The  first  tinge  of  colour  Mickey  had  seen,  almost  invis- 
ibly faint,  crept  to  the  surface  of  Peaches'  white  cheek. 

"Just  you  try  it,  Mickey-lovest ! "  she  exclaimed. 

"Finish  your  supper,  and  see  what  I  try." 

Peaches  obeyed.  She  had  stopped  grabbing  and  cram- 
ming. She  ate  slowly,  masticating  each  morsel  as  the 
nurse  told  Mickey  she  should.  To-night  he  found  her  so 
dainty  and  charming,  as  she  instinctively  tried  to  be  as 
nice  as  her  dress  and  supper  demanded,  that  he  forgot 
himself,  until  she  reminded  him.  Then  he  rallied  and  ate 
his  share.  He  presented  the  cakes,  and  while  they  en- 
joyed them  he  described  every  detail  of  the  day  he  thought 
would  interest  her,  until  she  had  finished.  He  told  her  of 
the  nurse  and  the  dresses  and  when  she  wanted  to  see  the 
others  he  said:  "No  sir!  You  got  to  wait  till  you  are 
bathed  and  dressed  each  evening,  and  then  you  can  see 
yourself,  and  that  will  be  more  fun  than  taking  things  all 
at  once.  You  needn't  think  I'm  coming  in  here  every 
night  with  a  great  big  lift-the-roof  surprise  for  you.  Most 
nights  there  won't  be  anything  for  you  only  me,  and  your 
supper." 

"But  Mickey,  them's  the  nicest  nights  of  all!"  said 
Peaches.  "I  like  thinking  about  you  better  than  nurse- 
ladies,  or  joy-ladies,  or  my  back,  even;  if  it  wasn't  for  hav- 
ing supper  ready  to  help  you." 

"There  you  go  again!"  exclaimed  Mickey.  "Cut  that 
stuff  out,  kid !  You'll  get  me  so  broke  up,  I  won't  be  fit  for 
nothing  but  poetry,  and  that's  tough  eating;  there's  a  lot 


T98  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

must  come,  Tore  I  just  make  a  business  of  it.  Now  Miss, 
you  brace  up,  and  get  this:  the  Carrel  man  has  been  in 
this  very  burg.  See!  Our  Nurse  Lady  at  the  'Star  of 
Hope*  has  watched  him  making  some  one  over.  Every 
time  anybody  is  brought  there  with  a  thing  the  matter 
•with  them,  that  he  knows  best  how  to  cure,  the  big  head 
knifers  slip  it  over  to  him,  so  he  comes  and  does  it  to  get 
practice  on  the  job.  He  may  not  come  for  a  long  time; 
lie  might  come  to-morrow.  See?" 

"Oh  Mickey!     Would  he?"  gasped  Peaches. 

"Why  sure  he  would!"  cried  Mickey  with  his  most 
elaborate  flourish.  "Sure  he  would!  That's  what  he 
lives  for.  He'd  be  tickled  to  pieces  to  make  over  the  back 
of  a  little  girl  that  can't  walk.  Sure  he  would!  What  I 
ain't  sure  of  is  that  you  wouldn't  gig  back  and  say,  'I 
won't!'  if  you  had  a  chance  to  be  fixed." 

Peaches  spoke  with  deliberate  conviction:  "Mickey, 
I'm  most  sure  I've  about  quit  that!" 

"Well,  it's  time!"  said  Mickey.  "What  you  got  to  do 
is  to  eat,  and  sleep,  and  be  bathed,  and  rubbed,  and  get  so 
big  and  strong  that  when  I  come  chasing  up  the  steps  and 
say,  'He  s  here,  Lily,  clap  your  arms  around  my  neck  and 
<:ome  to  the  china  room  and  the  glass  table  and  be  fixed,' 
you  just  take  a  grip  and  never  open  your  head.  See! 
You  can  be  a  game  little  kid,  the  gamest  I  ever  saw,  you 
will  then,  Lily,  won't  you?" 

"Sure!"  she  promised.  "I'll  just  grab  you  and  I'll  say, 
"Go  Mickey,  go  h !'" 

"Wope!  Wope  there  lady!"  interposed  Mickey.  "Look 
out!  There's  a  subm'rine  coming.  Sink  it!  Sink  it!" 


BIG  BROTHER  199 

"Mickey  what's  a  subm'rine?"  asked  Peaches. 

"Why  it's  like  this,"  explained  Mickey.  "There's 
places  where  there's  water,  like  I  bring  to  wash  you,  only 
miles  and  miles  of  it,  such  a  lot,  it's  called  an  ocean 

"Sure!  'Crost  it  where  the  kings  is  makin'  people  kill 
theirselves,"  cried  Peaches. 

"Yes,"  agreed  Mickey.  "And  on  the  water,  sailing 
along  like  a  lady,  is  a  big,  beautiful  ship.  Then  there's  a 
nasty  little  boat  that  can  creep  under  the  water.  It  slips 
up  when  she  doesn't  know  it's  coming,  and  blows  a  hole 
in  the  fine  ship  and  sinks  her  all  spoiled.  But  if  the  nice 
ship  sees  the  subm'rine  coming  and  sinks  it,  why  then  she 
stays  all  nice,  and  isn't  spoiled  at  all.  See?" 

"Subm'rines  spoil  things?"  ventured  Peaches. 

"They  were  just  invented  for  that,  and  nothing  else." 

"Mickey,  I'll  just  say,  'Hurry!  Run  fast!'  Mickey, 
can  you  carry  me  that  far?"  she  asked  anxiously. 

"No,  I  can't  carry  you  that  far,"  admitted  Mickey. 
"But  Mr.  Douglas  Bruce,  that  we  work  for  after  this, 
will  let  me  take  his  driver  and  his  nice,  easy  car,  and  it 
will  beat  street-cars  a  mile,  and  we'll  just  go  sailing  for 
the  'Star  of  Hope'  and  get  your  back  made  over,  and  then 
comes  school  and  everything  girls  like.  See?" 

"Mickey,  what  if  he  never  comes?"  wavered  Peaches. 

"Yes,  but  he  will  /"  said  Mickey  positively. 

"Mickey,  what  if  he  should  come,  an*  wouldn't  even 
look  at  my  back?"  she  pursued. 

"Why  he'd  be  glad  to!"  cried  Mickey.  "Don't  be 
silly.  Give  the  man  some  chance!" 


CHAPTER  IX 
JAMES  JR.  AND  MALCOLM 

NELLIE  MINTURN  returned  to  her  room  too 
dazed  to  realize  her  suffering.  She  had  intended 
doing  something;  the  fringed  orchids  reminded 
her.  She  rang  for  water  to  put  them  in,  while  her  maid 
with  shaking  fingers  dressed  her,  then  ordered  the  car. 
The  girl  understood  that  some  terrible  thing  had  happened 
and  offered  to  go  with  the  woman  who  moved  so  mechani- 
cally she  proved  she  scarcely  knew  what  she  was  do- 
ing. 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn.  "No,  the  little  soul  has  been 
out  there  a  long  time  alone,  her  mother  had  better  go  alone 
and  see  how  it  is." 

She  entered  the  car,  gave  her  order  and  sank  back 
against  the  seat.  When  the  car  stopped,  she  descended 
and  found  the  gates  guarding  the  doors  of  the  onyx  vault 
locked.  She  pushed  her  flowers  between  the  bars,  drop- 
ping them  before  the  doors,  then  wearily  sank  on  the 
first  step,  leaning  her  head  against  the  gate,  trying  to 
think,  but  she  could  not.  Near  dawn  her  driver  spoke  to 
her. 

"It's  almost  morning,"  he  said.  "You've  barely  time 
to  reach  home  before  the  city  will  be  stirring." 

She  paid  no  attention,  so  at  last  he  touched  her. 

200 


JAMES  JR.  AND  MALCOLM  201 

"You,  Weston?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,  Madam,"  he  said.  "I'm  afraid  for  you.  I  ven- 
tured to  come  closer  than  you  said.  Excuse  me." 

"Thank  you  Weston,"  she  answered. 

"Let  me  drive  you  home  now,  Madam,"  he  begged. 

"Just  where  would  you  take  me  if  you  were  taking  me 
home,  Weston  ? " 

"Where  we  came  from,"  he  replied. 

"Do  you  think  that  has  ever  been  a  home,  Weston?" 

"I  have  thought  it  the  finest  home  in  Multiopolis, 
Madam,"  said  the  driver  in  surprise. 

She  laughed  bitterly.  "So  have  I,  Weston.  And  to- 
day I  have  learned  what  it  really  is.  Help  me,  Weston! 
Take  me  back  to  the  home  of  my  making." 

When  he  rang  for  her,  she  gave  him  an  order:  "Find 
Mr.  John  Haynes  and  bring  him  here  immediately." 

"Bring  him  now,  Madam?"  he  questioned. 

"Immediately,  I  said,"  she  repeated. 

"I  will  try,  Madam,"  said  Weston. 

"You  will  bring  him  at  once  if  he  is  in  Multiopolis,"  she 
said  with  finality. 

Weston  knew  that  John  Haynes  was  her  lawyer;  he  had 
brought  him  from  his  residence  or  office  at  her  order  many 
times;  he  brought  him  again.  At  once  John  Haynes  dis- 
missed all  the  servants  in  the  Minturn  household,  arranged 
everything  necessary,  and  saw  Mrs.  Minturn  aboard  a 
train  in  company  with  a  new  maid  of  his  selection;  then  he 
mailed  a  deed  of  gift  of  the  Minturn  residence  to  the  city 
of  Multiopolis  for  an  endowed  Children's  Hospital.  The 
morning  papers  briefly  announced  the  departure  and  the 


202  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

gift.  At  his  breakfast  table  James  Minturn  read  both 
items,  then  sat  in  deep  thought. 

"Not  like  her!"  was  his  mental  comment.  "I  can 
understand  how  that  place  would  become  intolerable  to 
her;  but  I  never  knew  her  to  give  a  dollar  to  the  suffering. 
Now  she  makes  a  princely  gift,  not  because  she  is  gener- 
ous, but  because  the  house  has  become  unbearable;  and  as 
usual,  with  no  thought  of  any  one  save  herself.  If  the 
city  dares  accept,  how  her  millionaire  neighbours  will  rage 
at  disease  and  sickness  being  brought  into  the  finest  resi- 
dence district!  Probably  the  city  will  be  compelled  to  sell 
it  and  build  somewhere  else.  But  there  is  something 
fitting  in  the  reparation  of  turning  a  building  that  has  been 
a  place  of  torture  to  children,  into  one  of  healing.  It 
proves  that  she  has  a  realizing  sense." 

He  glanced  around  the  bright,  cheerful  breakfast  room, 
with  its  carefully  set,  flower-decorated  table,  at  his  sister 
at  its  head,  at  a  son  on  either  hand,  at  a  pleasant-faced 
young  tutor  on  one  side,  and  his  Little  Brother  on  the 
other;  for  so  had  James  Minturn  ordered  his  house- 
hold. 

Mrs.  Winslow  had  left  a  home  she  loved  to  come  at  her 
brother's  urgent  call  for  help  to  save  his  boys.  The  tutor 
had  only  a  few  hours  of  his  position,  and  thus  far  his  salary 
seemed  the  attractive  feature.  James  Jr.  and  Malcolm 
were  too  dazed  to  be  natural  for  a  short  time.  They  had 
been  picked  up  bodily,  and  carried  kicking  and  screaming 
to  this  place,  where  they  had  been  dressed  in  plain  durable 
clothing.  Malcolm's  bed  stood  beside  Little  Brother's  in 
a  big  sunny  room;  James'  was  near  the  tutor's  in  a  chamber 


JAMES  JR.  AND  MALCOLM  203 

the  counterpart  of  the  other,  save  for  its  bookcases  lining 
one  wall. 

There  was  a  schoolroom  not  yet  furnished  with  more 
than  tables  and  chairs,  its  floors  and  walls  bare,  its  win- 
dows having  shades  only.  When  worn  out  with  the 
struggle  the  amazed  boys  had  succumbed  to  sleep  on  little, 
hard,  white  beds  with  plain  covers;  had  awakened  to  a 
cold  bath  at  the  hands  of  a  man,  and  when  they  rebelled 
and  called  for  Lucette  and  their  accustomed  clothing,  were 
forcibly  dressed  in  linen  and  khaki. 

In  a  few  minutes  together  before  they  were  called  to 
breakfast,  James  had  confided  to  Malcolm  that  he  thought 
if  they  rushed  into  William's  back  with  all  their  strength, 
on  the  top  step,  they  could  roll  him  downstairs  and  bang 
him  up  good.  Malcolm  had  doubts,  but  he  was  willing  to 
try.  William  was  alert,  because  as  many  another  "  newsy  " 
he  had  known  these  boys  in  the  park;  so  when  the  rush 
came,  a  movement  too  quick  for  untrained  eyes  to  follow 
swung  him  around  a  newel  post,  while  both  boys  bumping, 
screaming,  rolled  to  the  first  landing  and  rebounded  from 
a  wall  harder  than  they.  When  no  one  hastened  at  their 
screams  to  pick  them  up,  they  arose  fighting  each  other. 
The  tutor  passed  and  James  tried  to  kick  him,  merely 
because  he  could.  He  was  not  there  either,  but  he  stopped 
for  this  advice  to  the  astonished  boy:  "If  I  were  you  I 
wouldn't  do  that.  This  is  a  free  country,  and  if  you  have 
a  right  to  kick  me,  I  have  the  same  right  to  kick  you.  I 
wouldn't  like  to  do  it.  I'd  rather  allow  mules  and  vicious 
horses  to  do  the  kicking;  still  if  you're  bound  to  kick,  I  can; 
but  my  foot  is  so  much  bigger  than  yours,  and  if  I  forgot 


204  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

and  took  you  for  a  football,  you'd  probably  have  to  go  to 
the  hospital  and  lie  in  a  plaster  cast  a  week  or  so.  If  I 
were  you,  I  wouldn't!  Let's  go  watch  the  birds  till  break- 
fast is  called,  instead." 

The  invitation  was  not  accepted.  The  tutor  descended 
alone.  As  he  stepped  to  the  veranda  he  met  Mr.  Minturn. 

"Well?"  that  gentleman  asked  tersely. 

Mr.  Tower  shook  his  head.  He  was  studying  law.  He 
needed  money  to  complete  his  course.  He  needed  many 
things  he  could  acquire  from  James  Minturn. 

"It's  a  problem,"  he  said  guardedly. 

"You  draw  your  salary  for  its  solution,"  Mr.  Minturn 
said  tartly.  "Work  on  the  theory  I  outlined;  if  it  fails 
after  a  fair  test,  we'll  try  another.  Those  boys  have  got  to 
be  saved.  They  are  handsome  little  chaps  with  fine  bodies 
and  good  ancestry.  What  happened  just  now?" 

"They  tried  to  rush  William  on  the  top  step.  William 
evaporated,  so  they  took  the  fall  themselves." 

"Exactly  right,"  commented  Mr.  Minturn.  "Get  the 
idea  and  work  on  it.  Every  rough,  heartless  thing  they  at- 
tempt, if  at  all  possible,  make  it  a  boomerang  to  strike 
them  their  own  blow;  but  you  reserve  blows  as  a  last  re- 
sort. There  is  the  bell."  Mr.  Minturn  called:  "Boys! 
The  breakfast  bell  is  ringing.  Come!" 

There  was  not  a  sound.  Mr.  Minturn  nodded  to  the 
tutor.  Together  they  ascended  the  stairs.  They  found 
the  boys  hidden  in  a  wardrobe.  Mr.  Minturn  opened  the 
door,  gravely  looking  at  them. 

"  Boys,"  he  said,  "you're  going  to  live  with  me  after  this, 
so  you're  to  come  when  I  call  you.  You're  going  to  eat  the 


JAMES  JR.  AND  MALCOLM  205 

food  that  makes  men  of  boys,  where  I  can  see  what  you  get. 
You  are  going  to  do  what  I  believe  best  for  you,  until  you 
are  so  educated  that  you  are  capable  of  thinking  for  your- 
selves. Now  what  you  must  do,  is  to  come  downstairs  and 
take  your  places  at  the  table.  If  you  don't  feel  hungry, 
you  needn't  eat;  but  I  would  advise  you  to  make  a  good 
meal.  I  intend  to  send  you  to  the  country  in  the  car. 
You'll  soon  want  food.  With  me  you  will  not  be  allowed 
to  lunch  at  any  hour,  in  cafes  and  restaurants.  If  you 
don't  eat  your  breakfast  you  will  get  nothing  until  noon. 
It  is  up  to  you.  Come  on!" 

Neither  boy  moved.     Mr.  Minturn  smiled  at  them. 

* 

"The  sooner  you  quit  this,  the  sooner  all  of  us  will  be 
comfortable,"  he  said  casually.  "Observe  my  size.  See 
Mr.  Tower,  a  college  athlete,  who  will  teach  you  ball,  foot- 
ball, tennis,  swimming  in  lakes  and  riding,  all  the  things 
that  make  boys  manly  men;  better  stop  sulking  in  a  closet 
and  show  your  manhood.  With  one  ringer  either  of  us 
can  lift  you  out  and  carry  you  down  by  force;  and  we  will, 
but  why  not  be  gentlemen  and  walk  down  as  we  do?" 

Both  boys  looked  at  him;  then  at  each  other,  but  re- 
mained where  they  were. 

"Time  is  up!"  said  Mr.  Minturn.  "They've  had  their 
chance,  Mr.  Tower.  If  they  won't  take  it,  they  must 
suffer  the  consequences.  Take  Malcolm,  I'll  bring 
James." 

Instantly  both  boys  began  to  fight.  No  one  bribed 
them  to  stop,  struck  them,  or  did  anything  at  all  according 
to  precedent.  They  raged  until  they  exposed  a  vulner- 
able point,  then  each  man  laid  hold,  lifted  and  carefully 


206  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

carried  down  a  boy,  placing  him  on  a  chair.  James  in- 
stantly slid  to  the  floor. 

"Take  James'  chair  away!"  ordered  Mr.  Minturn. 
"He  prefers  to  be  served  on  the  floor." 

Malcolm  laughed. 

"I  don't  either.     I  slipped,"  cried  James. 

"Then  excuse  yourself,  resume  your  chair,  and  be 
mighty  careful  you  don't  slip  again." 

James  looked  at  his  father  sullenly,  but  at  last  muttered. 
"Excuse  me,"  and  took  the  chair.  With  bright  inflamed 
eyes  they  stared  at  their  almost  unknown  father,  who  now 
had  them  in  his  power;  at  a  woman  they  scarcely  knew, 
whom  they  were  told  to  call  Aunt  Margaret;  at  a  strange 
man  who  was  to  take  Lucette's  place,  and  who  had  a  grip 
that  made  hers  seem  feeble,  and  who  was  to  teach  them  the 
things  of  which  they  knew  nothing,  and  therefore  hated; 
and  at  a  boy  nearer  their  own  size  and  years,  whom  their 
father  called  William.  Both  boys  refused  fruit  and  cereal, 
rudely  demanding  cake  and  ice  cream.  Margaret  Win- 
slow  looked  at  her  brother  in  despair.  He  placidly  ate  his 
breakfast,  remarking  that  the  cook  was  a  treasure.  As  he 
left  the  table  Mr.  Minturn  laid  the  papers  before  his  sister, 
indicating  the  paragraphs  he  had  read,  then  calling  for  his 
car  he  took  the  tutor  and  the  boys  and  left  for  his  office. 
He  ordered  them  to  return  for  him  at  half-past  eleven,  and 
with  minute  instructions  as  to  how  they  were  to  proceed, 
Mr.  Tower  and  William  drove  to  the  country  to  begin  the 
breaking  in  of  the  Minturn  boys. 

They  disdained  ball,  did  not  care  for  football,  impro- 
vised golf  clubs  and  a  baseball  were  not  interesting,  fur- 


JAMES  JR.  AND  MALCOLM  207 

ther  than  the  use  of  the  clubs  on  each  other,  which  was  not 
allowed.  They  did  not  care  what  the  flowers  were,  they 
jerked  them  up  by  the  roots  when  they  saw  it  annoyed 
Mr.  Tower,  while  every  bird  in  range  flew  from  a  badly 
aimed  stone.  They  tried  chasing  a  flock  of  sheep,  which 
chased  beautifully  for  a  short  distance,  then  a  ram  de- 
clined to  run  farther  and  butted  the  breath  from  Mal- 
colm's small  body  until  it  had  to  be  shaken  in  again.  They 
ran  amuck  and  on  finding  they  were  not  pursued,  gave  up, 
stopping  on  the  bank  of  a  creek.  There  they  espied 
tiny  shining  fish  swimming  through  the  water  and  plunged 
in  to  try  to  capture  them.  When  Mr.  Tower  and  William 
came  up,  both  boys  were  busy  chasing  fish.  From  a  bank 
where  they  sat  watching  came  a  proposal  from  William. 

"Til  tell  you  fellows,  I  believe  if  we  could  build  a  dam 
we  could  catch  them.  Gather  stones  and  pile  them  up 
till  I  get  my  shoes  off." 

Instantly  both  boys  obeyed.  Mr.  Tower  and  William 
stripped  their  feet,  and  rolled  their  trousers.  Into  the 
creek  they  went  setting  stones,  packing  with  sod  and  muck, 
using  sticks  and  leaves  until  in  a  short  time  they  had  a  dam 
before  which  the  water  began  rising,  then  overflowing. 

"Now  we  must  wait  until  it  clears,"  said  William. 

So  they  sat  under  a  tree  to  watch  until  in  the  clean 
pool  formed  they  could  see  little  fish  gathering.  Then  the 
boys  lay  on  the  banks  and  tried  to  catch  them  with  their 
hands,  and  succeeded  in  getting  a  few.  Mr.  Tower  sug- 
gested they  should  make  pools,  one  on  each  side  of  the 
creek,  for  their  fish,  so  they  eagerly  went  to  work.  They 
pushed  and  slapped  each  other,  they  fought  over  the  same 


208  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

stone,  but  each  constructed  with  his  own  hands  a  stone 
and  mud  enclosed  pool  in  which  to  pen  his  fish.  They 
were  really  interested  in  what  they  were  doing,  they  really 
worked,  also  soon  they  were  really  tired,  they  were  really 
hungry.  With  imperative  voice  they  demanded  food. 

"You  forget  what  your  father  told  you  at  breakfast," 
said  Mr.  Tower.  "He  knew  you  were  coming  to  the 
country  where  you  couldn't  get  food.  William  and  I  are 
not  hungry.  We  want  to  catch  these  little  fish,  and  see 
who  can  get  the  most.  We  think  it's  fun.  We  can't  take 
the  car  back  until  your  father  said  to  come." 

"You  take  us  back  right  now,  and  order  meat,  and 
cake,  and  salad  and  ice  cream,  lots  of  it!"  stormed 
James. 

"I  have  to  obey  your  father!"  said  Mr.  Tower. 

"I  just  hate  fathers!"  cried  James. 

"I'll  wager  you  do!"  conceded  Mr.  Tower. 

James  stared  open  mouthed. 

"I  can  see  how  you  feel,"  said  Mr.  Tower  companion- 
ably.  "WTien  a  fellow  has  been  coddled  by  nurses  all  his 
life,  has  no  muscle,  no  appetite  except  for  the  things  he 
shouldn't  have,  and  never  has  done  anything  but  silly 
park-playing,  it  must  be  a  great  change  to  be  out  with  men, 
and  doing  as  they  do." 

Both  boys  were  listening,  so  he  went  on:  "But  don't 
feel  badly,  and  don't  waste  breath  hating.  Save  it  for  the 
grand  fun  we  are  going  to  have,  and  next  time  good  food  is 
before  you,  eat  like  men.  We  don't  start  back  for  an  hour 
yet;  see  which  can  catch  the  most  fish  in  that  time." 

"Where  is  Lucetter"  demanded  James. 


JAMES  JR.  AND  MALCOLM  209 

"Gone  back  to  her  home  across  the  ocean;  you'll  never 
see  her  again,"  said  Mr.  Tower. 

"Wish  I  could  a-busted  her  head  before  she  went!"  said 
James  regretfully. 

"  No  doubt,"  laughed  Mr.  Tower.  "  But  break  your  own, 
and  see  how  it  feels  before  you  try  it  on  any  one  else." 

"I  wish  I  could  break  yours!"  cried  James  angrily. 

"No  doubt  again,"  agreed  the  tutor,  "but  if  you  do,  the 
man  who  takes  my  place  may  not  know  how  to  make 
bows  and  arrows,  or  build  dams,  or  anything  that's  fun, 
while  he  may  not  be  so  patient  as  I  am." 

"  Being  hungry  ain't  fun,"  growled  Malcolm. 

"That's  your  own  fault,"  Mr.  Tower  reminded  him. 
"You  wouldn't  eat.  That  was  a  good  breakfast." 

"Wasn't  a  thing  Lucette  gave  us!"  scoffed  James. 

"  But  you  don't  like  Lucette  very  well,"  said  Mr.  Tower. 
"After  you've  been  a  man  six  months,  you  won't  eat  cake 
for  breakfast;  or  much  of  it  at  any  time." 

"Lucette  is  never  coming  back?"  marvelled  Malcom. 

"Never!"  said  Mr.  Tower  conclusively. 

"How  soon  are  we  going  home?"  demanded  James. 

"Never!"  replied  Mr.  Tower.  "You  are  going  to  live 
where  you  were  last  night,  after  this." 

"Where  is  mamma?"  cried  Malcolm. 

"Gone  for  the  summer,"  explained  Mr.  Tower. 

"I  know.  She  always  goes,"  said  James.  "But  she 
took  us  before.  I  just  hate  it.  I  like  this  better.  We 
make  no  difference  to  her  anyway.  Let  her  go!" 

"Ain't  we  rich  boys  any  more?"  inquired  Malcolm. 

"I    don't   know,"    said    Mr.   Tower.     "That   is   your 


210  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

father's  business.  I  think  you  have  as  much  money  as 
ever,  but  from  now  on,  you  are  going  to  live  like  men." 

"We  won't  live  like  men!"  cried  both  boys. 

"Now  look  here/'  said  Mr.  Tower  kindly,  "you  may 
take  my  word  for  it  that  a  big  boy  almost  ten  years  old, 
and  another  nearly  his  age,  who  can  barely  read,  who  can't 
throw  straight,  who  can't  swim,  or  row,  or  walk  a  mile 
without  puffing  like  an  engine,  who  begins  to  sweat  over 
lifting  a  few  stones,  is  a  mighty  poor  specimen.  You 
think  you  are  wonders  because  you've  heard  yourselves 
called  big,  fine  boys;  you  are  soft  fatties.  I  can  take  you 
to  the  park  and  pick  out  any  number  of  boys  half  your 
size  and  age  who  can  make  either  of  you  yell  for  mercy  in 
three  seconds.  You  aren't  boys  at  all;  if  you  had  to  get 
on  your  feet  and  hike  back  to  town,  before  a  mile  you'd  be 
lying  beside  the  road  bellowing  worse  than  I've  heard  you 
yet.  You  aren't  as  tough  and  game  as  half  the  girls  of 
your  age  I  know." 

"You  shut  your  mouth!"  cried  James  in  rage.  "Moth- 
er'll  fire  you!" 

"It  is  you  who  are  fired,  young  man,"  said  the  tutor. 
"Your  mother  is  far  away  by  this  time.  She  left  you 
boys  with  your  father,  who  pays  me  to  make  men  of  you, 
so  I'm  going  to  do  it.  You  are  big  enough  to  know  that 
you'll  never  be  men,  motoring  around  with  nurses,  like 
small  babies;  eating  cake  and  cream  when  your  bones  and 
muscles  are  in  need  of  stiffening  and  toughening.  William, 
peel  off  your  shirt,  and  show  these  chaps  how  a  man's 
muscle  should  be." 

William  obeyed,  swelling-  his  muscles. 


JAMES  JR.  AND  MALCOLM  211 

"Now  you  try  that,"  suggested  Mr.  Tower  to  James, 
'and  see  how  much  muscle  you  can  raise." 

"I'm  no  gutter  snipe,"  he  sneered.  "I'm  a  gentleman! 
I  don't  need  muscle.  I'm  never  going  to  work." 

"But  you've  just  been  working!"  cried  the  tutor.  "Car- 
rying those  stones  was  work,  and  you'll  remember  it  took 
both  of  you  to  lift  one  that  William,  who  is  only  a  little 
older  than  you,  James,  moved  with  one  hand.  You  can't 
play  without  working.  You've  got  to  pull  to  row  a  boat, 
or  hold  a  horse.  You  must  step  out  lively  to  play  ten- 
nis, or  golf,  or  to  skate,  while  if  you  try  to  swim  without 
work,  you'll  drown." 

"I  ain't  going  to  do  those  things!"  retorted  James. 

"No,  you  are  going  to  spend  your  life  riding  in  an  auto- 
mobile with  a  nurse,  feeding  you  cake!"  scoffed  the  tutor. 

William  shouted  and  turned  a  cart  wheel  so  flashingly 
quick  that  both  boys  jumped.  James'  face  coloured  a 
slow  red,  so  the  tutor  took  hope. 

"I  see  that  makes  you  blush,"  he  said.  "No  wonder! 
You  should  be  as  tough  as  leather,  and  spinning  along  this 
creek  bank  like  William.  Instead  you  are  a  big,  bloated 
softy.  You  carry  too  much  fat  for  your  size,  while  you 
are  mushy  as  pudding!  If  I  were  you,  I'd  show  my  father 
how  much  of  a  man  I  could  be,  instead  of  how  much  of  a 
baby." 

"Father  isn't  a  gentleman!"  announced  Malcolm. 
"Lucette  said  so!" 

"Hush!"  cried  Mr.  Tower.  "Don't  you  ever  say  that 
again!  Your  father  is  one  of  the  big  men  of  this  great 
city:  one  of  the  men  who  think,  plan,  and  make  things 


212  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

happen,  that  result  in  health,  safety  and  comfort  for  all 
of  us.  One  of  the  men  who  is  going  to  rule,  not  only  his 
own  home,  but  this  city,  and  this  whole  state,  one  of  these 
days.  You  don't  know  your  father.  You  don't  know 
what  men  say  and  think  of  him.  You  do  know  that 
Lucette  was  fit  for  nothing  but  to  wash  and  dress  you  like 
babies,  big  boys  who  should  have  been  ashamed  to  let  a 
woman  wait  on  them.  You  do  know  that  she  is  on  her 
way  back  where  she  came  from,  because  she  could  not  do 
her  work  right.  And  you  have  the  nerve  to  tell  me  what 
she  said  about  a  fine,  strong,  manly  man  like  your  father. 
I'm  amazed  at  you!" 

"  Gentlemen  don't  work ! "  persisted  Malcolm.  "  Mother 
said  so!" 

"I'm  sorry  to  contradict  your  mother,  but  she  forgot 
something,"  said  Mr.  Tower.  "If  the  world  has  any  gen- 
tlemen it  surely  should  be  those  born  for  generations  of 
royal  and  titled  blood,  and  reared  from  their  cradles  in 
every  tradition  of  their  rank.  Europe  is  full  of  them,  and 
many  are  superb  men.  I  know  a  few.  Now  will  you  tell 
me  where  they  are  to-day?  They  are  down  in  trenches 
six  feet  under  ground,  shivering  in  mud  and  water,  half 
dead  for  sleep,  food,  and  rest,  trying  to  save  the  land 
of  their  birth,  the  homes  they  own,  to  protect  the  women 
and  children  they  love.  They  are  marching  miles,  being 
shot  down  in  cavalry  rushes,  and  blown  up  in  boats  they 
are  manning,  in  their  fight  to  save  their  countries.  Gentle- 
men don't  work  !  You  are  too  much  of  an  idiot  to  talk 
with,  if  you  don't  know  how  gentlemen  of  birth,  rank  and 
by  nature  are  working  this  very  day." 


JAMES  JR.  AND  MALCOLM  213 

The  descent  on  him  was  precipitate  and  tumultuous. 

"The  war!"  shouted  both  boys  in  chorus.  ''Tell  us 
about  the  war!  Oh  I  just  love  the  war!"  cried  Malcolm. 
"When  I'm  a  man  I'm  going  to  have  a  big  shiny  sword, 
and  ride,  and  fight,  and  make  the  enemy  fly!  You  ought 
to  seen  Gretchen  and  Lucette  fight!  They  ain't  either 
one  got  much  hair  left." 

The  tutor  could  not  help  laughing;  but  he  made  room 
for  a  boy  on  either  side  of  him,  and  began  on  the  war. 
It  was  a  big  subject,  there  were  phases  of  it  that  shocked 
and  repulsed  him;  but  it  was  his  task  to  undo  the  wrong 
work  often  years,  he  was  forced  to  use  the  instrument  that 
would  accomplish  that  end.  With  so  much  material  he 
could  tell  of  things  unavoidable,  that  men  of  strength  and 
courage  were  doing,  not  forgetting  the  boys  and  the 
women.  William  stretched  at  his  feet  and  occasionally 
made  a  suggestion,  or  asked  a  question,  while  James  and 
Malcolm  were  interested  in  something  at  last.  When  it 
was  time  to  return,  neither  one  wanted  to  start. 

"Your  father's  orders  were  to  come  for  him  at  half- 
past  eleven,"  reminded  Mr.  Tower.  "I  work  for  him,  so 
I  must  obey!" 

"Nobody  pays  any  attention  to  father,"  cried  James. 
"I  order  you  to  stay  here  and  tell  of  the  fighting.  Tell 
again  about  the  French  boy  who  wouldn't  show  where  the 
troops  were.  Again  I  say!" 

"Oh,  I  am  to  take  orders  from  you,  am  I?"  queried  Mr. 
Tower.  "All  right!  Pay  my  salary  and  give  me  the 
money  to  buy  our  lunch!" 

James  stood  thinking  a  second.     "I  have  all  the  money 


2i4  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

I  want,"  he  said.  "I  go  to  Mrs.  Ranger  for  my  money. 
Mother  always  makes  her  give  me  what  I  ask  for." 

"You  have  forgotten  that  you  have  moved,  and  brought 
only  yourselves,"  said  Mr.  Tower.  "Your  mother  and 
the  money  are  gone.  Your  father  pays  the  bills  now,  and 
if  you'll  watch  sharp,  you'll  see  that  things  have  changed 
since  this  time  yesterday.  Every  one  pays  all  the  atten- 
tion there  is  to  father  now.  What  we  have,  and  do,  and 
want,  must  come  from  him,  and  as  it's  a  big  contract,  and 
he's  needed  to  help  manage  this  city,  we'd  better  begin 
thinking  about  father,  and  taking  care  of  him  as  much  as 
we  can.  Now  we  are  to  obey  him.  Come  on  William. 
It's  lunch  time,  and  I'm  so  hungry  I  can  scarcely  wait." 

The  boys  clirrrbed  into  the  car  without  a  word,  and  be- 
fore it  had  gone  a  mile  Malcolm  slipped  against  the  tutor 
and  shortly  thereafter  James  slid  to  the  floor,  tired  to  in- 
sensibility and  sound  asleep.  So  Mr.  Minturn  found  them 
when  he  came  from  his  office.  He  looked  them  over 
carefully,  wet,  mud-stained,  grimy,  bruised  and  sleeping 
in  exhaustion. 

"Poor  little  soldiers,"  he  said.  "Your  battle  has  been 
a  hard  one  I  see.  I  hope  to  God  you  gained  a  victory." 

He  entered  the  car,  picked  up  James  and  taking  him  in 
his  arms  laid  the  tired  head  on  his  breast,  leaning  his 
face  against  the  boy's  hair.  When  the  car  stopped  at  the 
new  house,  the  tutor  waited  for  instructions. 

"Wake  them  up,  make  them  wash  themselves,  and  come 
to  lunch,"  said  Mr.  Mintum.  "Afterward,  if  they  are 
sleepy,  let  them  nap.  They  must  establish  regular  habits 
at  the  beginning.  It's  the  only  way." 


JAMES  JR.  AND  MALCOLM  215 

Dashes  of  cold  water  helped,  so  William  and  the  tutor 
telling  each  other  how  hungry  they  were,  brought  two 
boys  ready  to  eat  anything,  to  the  table.  Cake  and 
cream  were  not  mentioned.  Bread  and  milk,  cold  meat, 
salad,  and  a  plain  pudding  were  delicious.  As  their 
appetites  were  appeased,  they  both  evinced  a  disposition 
to  talk.  Between  bites  James  studied  his  father  criti- 
cally, then  suddenly  burst  forth:  "Are  you  a  gentleman?" 

"I  try  to  be/'  answered  Mr.  Minturn. 

"Are  you  running  this  city?"  put  in  Malcolm. 

"I  am  doing  what  I  can  to  help,"  said  his  father. 

"Make  Johnston  take  me  home  to  get  my  money." 

"You  have  no  home  but  this,"  said  Mr.  Minturn. 
"Your  old  home  now  belongs  to  the  city  of  Multiopolis. 
It  is  to  be  torn  up  and  made  over  into  a  place  where  sick 
children  can  be  cured.  If  you  are  ever  too  ill  for  us  to 
manage,  we'll  take  you  there  to  be  doctored." 

"Will  mother  and  Lucette  be  there?"  asked  James. 

Malcolm  nudged  his  brother. 

"Can't  you  remember?"  he  said.  "Lucette  has  gone 
across  the  ocean,  and  she  is  never  coming  back,  goody! 
goody!  And  you  know  about  how  much  mother  cares 
when  we  are  sick.  She's  coming  the  other  way,  when 
anybody  is  sick.  She  just  hates  sick  people.  Let  them 
go,  and  get  your  money  /" 

Thus  reminded,  James  began  again,  "I  want  to  get 
my  money." 

"Your  money  came  from  your  mother,  so  it  went  with 
your  home,  your  clothes,  and  your  playthings,"  explained 
Mr.  Minturn.  "You  have  none  until  you  earn  some.  I 


216  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

can  give  you  a  home,  education,  and  a  fine  position  when 
you  are  old  enough  to  hold  it;  but  I  cant  give  you  money. 
No  one  ever  gave  me  any.  I  always  had  to  work  for  mine. 
From  now  on  you  are  going  to  live  with  me,  so  if  you  have 
money  you  II  have  to  go  to  work  and  earn  it." 

Both  boys  looked  aghast  at  their  father.  "Ain't  we 
rich  any  more?" 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Minturn.     "Merely  comfortable!" 

James  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  twisting  his  body  in  its 
smooth  linen  covering.  He  looked  intently  at  the  room, 
table  and  people  surrounding  it.  He  glanced  from  the 
window  at  the  wide  green  lawn,  the  big  trees,  and  for  an 
instant  seemed  to  be  listening  to  the  birds  singing  there. 
He  laid  down  his  fork,  turning  to  his  brother.  Then  he 
exploded  the  bomb  that  shattered  the  family. 

"Oh  damn  being  rich!"  he  cried.  "I  like  being  com- 
fortable  a  lot  better!  Malcolm,  being  rich  has  put  us  about 
ten  miles  behind  where  we  ought  to  be.  We're  baby-girl 
softies!  We  wouldn't  a-faced  the  guns  and  not  told  where 
the  soldiers  were,  we'd  a-bellered  for  cake.  Brace  up! 
Let's  get  in  the  game!  Father,  have  we  got  to  go  on  the 
street  and  hunt  work,  or  can  you  give  us  a  job?" 

James  Minturn  tried  to  speak,  then  pushing  back  his 
chair  left  the  table  precipitately.  James  Jr.  looked  after 
him  doubtfully.  He  turned  to  Aunt  Margaret. 

"Please  excuse  me,"  he  said.  "I  guess  he  choked.  I'd 
better  go  pound  him  on  the  back  like  Lucette  does  us." 

Malcolm  looked  at  Aunt  Margaret.  "Mother  won't 
let  us  work,"  he  announced. 

"It's  like  this  Malcolm,"  said  Aunt  Margaret  gently- 


JAMES  JR.  AND  MALCOLM  217 

"Mother  had  charge  of  you  for  ten  years.  The  women 
she  employed  didn't  train  you  as  boys  should  be,  so  mother 
has  turned  you  over  to  father.  For  the  next  ten  years 
you  will  try  another  plan;  after  that,  you  will  be  big 
enough  to  decide  how  you  want  to  live;  but  now  I  think 
you  will  just  love  father's  way,  if  you  will  behave  yourself 
long  enough  to  find  out  what  fun  it  is." 

"Mother  won't  like  it,"  said  Malcolm  positively. 

"I  think  she  does  dear,  or  she  wouldn't  have  gone  and 
left  you  to  try  it,"  said  Aunt  Margaret.  "She  knew 
what  your  father  would  think  you  should  do;  if  she  hadn't 
thought  he  was  right  she  would  have  taken  you  with  her, 
as  she  always  did  before." 

"I  just  hate  being  taken  on  trains  and  boats  with  her. 
So  does  James!  We  like  the  dam,  the  fish,  and  we're 
going  to  have  bows  and  arrows,  to  shoot  at  mark." 

"And  we  are  going  to  swim  and  row,"  added  William. 

"And  we  are  going  to  be  soldiers,  and  hurl  back  the  en- 
emy," boasted  Malcolm,  "ain't  we  Mr.  Tower?" 

"Indian  scouts  are  more  fun,"  suggested  the  tutor. 

"And  there  is  the  money  we  must  earn,  if  we've  got  to,'* 
said  Malcolm.  "I  guess  father  is  telling  James  how.  I'll 
go  ask  him  too.  Excuse  me,  Aunt  Margaret!" 

"Of  all  the  surprises  I  ever  did  have,  this  is  the  biggest 
one!"  said  Aunt  Margaret.  "I  was  afraid  I  never  could 
like  them.  I  thought  this  morning  it  would  take  years." 

"There  is  nothing  in  the  world  like  the  receptivity  and 
plasticity  of  children,"  said  the  tutor.  "I  have  taught 
school,  so  I  know  that  a  child  can  settle  in  a  new  environ- 
ment in  a  few  hours." 


218  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Later  James  Minturn  appeared  on  his  veranda  with  a 
small  boy  clinging  to  each  hand.  The  trio  came  forth  with 
red  eyes,  but  firmly  allied. 

"Call  the  car,  if  you  please,  William,"  said  Senior.  "I 
am  going  to  help  build  that  dam  higher,  and  see  how 
many  fish  I  can  catch  for  my  pool." 

Malcolm  walked  beside  him,  rubbing  his  head  caress- 
ingly across  an  arm.  "We  don't  have  to  go  on  the  streets 
and  hunt,"  he  announced.  "Father  is  going  to  find  us 
work.  While  the  war  is  so  bad,  we  better  drink  milk,  and 
send  most  we  earn  to  boys  who  haven't  any  father.  The 
war  won't  take  our  father,  will  it?" 

"To-night  we  will  pray  God  not  to  let  that  happen," 
said  Aunt  Margaret.  "Is  there  room  in  the  car  for  me 
too,  James?  I  haven't  seen  one  of  those  little  brook  fish 
in  years!" 

James  Jr.  went  to  her  and  leaned  against  her  chair.  "I 
got  three  in  my  pool.  You  may  see  mine!  I'll  give  you 
one  to  keep." 

"I'd  love  to  see  them,"  said  Aunt  Margaret.  "I'll  go 
bring  my  hat.  But  I  think  you  shouldn't  give  the  fish 
away,  James.  They  belong  to  God.  He  made  their 
home  in  the  water.  If  you  take  them  out,  you  will 
kill  them,  and  He  won't  like  that.  Let's  just  look  at  them, 
and  leave  them  in  the  water." 

"Malcolm,  the  fish  'belong  to  God,'"  said  James,  turn- 
ing to  his  brother.  "We  may  play  with  them,  but  we 
mustn't  take  them  out  of  the  water  and  hurt  them." 

"Well,  who's  going  to  take  them  out  of  the  water?" 
cried  Malcolm.  "I'm  just  going  to  scoot  one  over  into 


JAMES  JR.  AND  MALCOLM  219 

father's  pool  to  start  him.  Will  you  give  him  one 
too?" 

"Yes,"  said  James  Jr. 

"The  next  money  I  earn,  I  shall  send  to  the  war;  but  the 
first  time  I  rake  the  lawn,  and  clean  the  rugs,  I'll  give 
what  I  earn  to  father,  so  he  will  have  more  time  to  play 
with  us.  Father  is  the  biggest  man  in  this  city!" 

"It  may  take  a  few  days  to  get  a  new  regime  started," 
said  father,  "I've  lived  only  for  work  so  long;  but  as 
soon  as  it's  possible,  my  day  will  be  so  arranged  that  some 
part  of  it  shall  be  yours,  boys,  to  show  me  what  you  are 
doing.  I  think  one  day  can  be  given  wholly  to  taking 
a  lunch  and  going  to  the  country." 

With  an  ecstatic  whoop  they  rushed  James  Minturn, 
whose  wide  aching  arms  opened  to  them. 


CHAPTER  X 
THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE 

"*W  "W   THAT  are  your  plans  for  this  summer,  Leslie?" 

%  i\  I  asked  Mr.  Winton  over  his  paper  at  breakfast. 
"The  real  question  is,  what  are  yours?" 

"I  have  none,"  said  Mr.  Winton.  "I  can't  see  my  way 
to  making  any  for  myself.  Between  us,  strictly,  Swain 
has  been  hard  hit.  He  gave  me  my  chance  in  life.  It  isn't 
in  my  skin  to  pack  up  and  leave  for  the  sea-shore  or  the 
mountains  on  the  results  of  what  he  helped  me  to,  and 
allow  him  to  put  up  his  nght  alone.  If  you  understood, 
you'd  be  ashamed  of  me  if  I  did,  Leslie." 

"But  I  do  understand,  Daddy!"  cried  the  girl.  "What 
makes  you  think  I  don't  ?  All  my  life  you've  been  telling 
me  how  you  love  Mr.  Swain  and  what  a  splendid  big  thing 
he  did  for  you  when  you  were  young.  Is  the  war  making 
business  awfully  hard  for  you  men?" 

"Close  my  girl,"  said  Mr.  Winton.  "Bed  rock 
close!" 

"That  is  what  cramps  Mr.  Swain?"  she  continued. 

"It  is  what  cramps  all  of  us,"  said  Mr.  Winton.  "It 
hit  him  with  peculiar  force  because  he  had  made  bad  in- 
vestments. He  was  running  light  anyway  in  an  effort  to 
recoup.  All  of  us  are  on  a  tension  brought  about  by  the 
result  of  political  changes,  to  which  we  were  struggling 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE  221 

to  adjust  ourselves,  when  the  war  began  working  greater 
hardships  and  entailing  millions  of  loss  and  expenses." 

"I  see,  and  that's  why  I  said  the  real  question  was, 
'what  are  your  plans?'"  explained  Leslie,  "because  when 
I  find  out,  if  perchance  they  should  involve  staying  on  the 
job  this  summer,  why  I  wanted  to  tell  you  that  I'm  on 
the  job  too.  I've  thought  out  the  grandest  scheme." 

"Yes,  Leslie?     Tell  me!"  said  Mr.  Winton. 

"It's  like  this,"  said  Leslie.  "Everybody  is  economiz- 
ing, shamelessly — and  that's  a  bully  word,  Daddy,  for  in 
most  instances  it  is  shameless.  Open  faced  'Lord  save  me 
and  my  wife,  and  my  son  John  and  his  wife.'  In  our 
women's  clubs  and  lectures,  magazines  and  sermons,  we've 
had  a  steady  dose  all  winter  of  hard  times,  and  economy, 
and  I've  tried  to  make  my  friends  see  that  their  efforts  at 
economy  are  responsible  for  the  very  hardest  crux  of  the 
hard  times." 

"You  mean,  Leslie ?"  suggested  Mr.  Winton  eagerly. 

"I  mean  all  of  us  quit  using  eggs,  dealers  become  fright- 
ened, eggs  soar  higher.  Economize  on  meat,  packers  buy 
less,  meat  goes  up.  All  of  us  discharge  our  help,  army  of 
unemployed  swells  by  millions.  It  works  two  ways,  and 
every  friend  I've  got  is  economizing  for  herself,  and  with 
every  stroke  for  herself  she  is  weakening  her  nation's  fi- 
nancial position  and  putting  a  bigger  burden  on  the  map- 
she  is  trying  to  help." 

"Well  Leslie "  cried  her  father. 

"The  time  has  come  for  women  to  find  out  what  it  is 
all  about,  then  put  their  shoulders  to  the  wheel  of  life 
and  push.  But  before  we  gain  enough  force  to  start  with 


222  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

any  momentum,  women  must  get  together  and  decide 
what  they  want,  what  they  are  pushing  for." 

"Have  you  decided  what  you  are  pushing  for?'* 

"Unalterably!"  cried  the  girl. 

"And  what  is  it?"  asked  her  father. 

"My  happiness!     My  joy  in  life!"  she  exclaimed. 

"And  exactly  in  what  do  you  feel  your  happiness  con- 
sists, Leslie?"  he  asked. 

"You  and  Douglas!  My  home  and  my  men  and  what 
they  imply!"  she  answered  instantly.  "As  I  figure  it, 
it's  homes  that  count,  Daddy.  If  the  nation  prospers,  the 
birth  rate  of  Americans  has  got  to  keep  up,  or  soon  the 
immigrants  will  be  in  control  everywhere,  as  they  are  in 
places,  right  now.  Births  imply  homes.  Homes  suggest 
men  to  support  them,  women  to  control  them.  If  the 
present  unrest  resolves  itself  into  a  personal  question,  so 
far  as  the  women  are  concerned  at  least,  if  you  are  going 
to  get  to  primal  things,  whether  she  realizes  it  or  no,  what 
each  woman  really  wants  she  learns,  as  Nellie  Minturn 
learned  when  she  took  her  naked  soul  into  the  swamp  and 
showed  it  to  her  God — what  each  woman  wants  is  her  man, 
her  cave,  and  her  baby.  If  the  world  is  to  prosper,  that 
is  woman's  work,  why  don't  you  men  who  are  doing  big 
things  realizs  it,  and  do  yourselves  what  women  are  going  to 
be  forced  from  home  to  do,  mighty  soon  now,  if  you  don't ! " 

"Well  Leslie!"  cried  Mr.  Winton. 

"You  said  that  before  Daddy!"  exclaimed  the  girl. 
"Yet  what  you  truly  want  of  a  woman  is  a  home  and 
children.  Children  imply  to  all  men  what  I  am  to  you. 
If  some  men  have  not  reared  their  children  so  that  they 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE  223 

receive  from  them  what  you  get  from  me,  it  is  time  for  the 
men  to  realize  this,  and  change  their  methods  of  rearing 
their  daughters  and  sons.  A  home  should  mean  to  every 
man  what  your  home  does  to  you.  If  all  men  do  not  get 
from  their  homes  what  you  do,  in  most  cases  it  is  their  own 
fault.  Of  course  I  know  there  are  women  so  abominably 
obsessed  with  self,  they  refuse  to  become  mothers,  and 
prefer  a  cafe,  with  tangoing  between  courses,  to  a  home; 
such  women  should  have  first  the  ducking  stool,  and  if  that 
isn't  efficacious,  extermination;  they  are  a  disgrace  to  our 
civilization  and  the  weakest  spot  we  have.  They  are  at 
the  bottom  of  the  present  boiling  discontent  of  women 
who  really  want  to  be  home  loving,  home  keeping.  They 
are  directly  responsible  for  the  fathers,  sons,  brothers,  and 
lovers  with  two  standards  of  morals.  A  man  reared  in 
the  right  kind  of  a  home,  by  a  real  mother,  who  goes  into 
other  homes  of  the  same  kind,  ruled  by  similar  mothers, 
when  he  leaves  his,  and  marries  the  right  girl  and  estab- 
lishes for  himself  a  real  home,  is  not  going  to  go  wrong. 
It  is  the  sons,  lovers,  and  husbands  of  the  women  who  re- 
fuse home  and  children,  and  carry  their  men  into  a  per- 
petual round  of  what  they  deem  pleasure  in  their  youth, 
who  find  life  desolate  when  age  begins  to  come,  and  who 
instantly  rebel  strongest  against  the  very  conditions  they 
have  made.  I've  been  listening  to  you  all  my  life,  Daddy, 
and  remembering  mother,  reading,  thinking,  and  watching 
for  what  really  pays,  and  believe  me,  I've  found  out.  I 
gave  Nellie  Minturn  the  best  in  my  heart  the  other  day, 
but  you  should  see  what  I  got  back.  Horrors,  Daddy! 
Just  plain  horrors!  I  said  to  Douglas  that  night  when  I 


MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

read  him  the  letter  I  afterward  showed  you,  that  if,  as  she 
suggested,  I  was  'ever  faintly  tempted  to  neglect  home 
life  for  society/  in  her  I  would  have  all  the  'horrible 
example'  I'd  ever  need,  and  rest  assured  I  shall." 

"Poor  woman !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Winton. 

"Exactly!"  cried  Leslie.  "And  the  poorest  thing 
about  it  is  that  she  is  not  to  blame  in  the  least.  You  and 
my  mother  could  have  made  the  same  kind  of  a  woman  of 
me.  If  you  had  fed  rrue  cake  instead  of  bread;  if  you  had 
given  me  candy  instead  of  fruit;  if  you  had  taken  me  to  the 
.show  instead  of  entertaining  me  at  home;  if  you  had  sent 
me  to  summer  resorts  instead  of  summering  with  me  in  the 
country,  you'd  have  had  another  Nellie  on  your  hands. 
The  world  is  full  of  Nellies,  but  where  one  woman  flees 
•too  strict  and  monotonous  a  home,  to  make  a  Nellie  out  of 
herself,  ten  are  taken  out  and  deliberately  moulded,  drilled 
.and  fashioned  into  Nellies  by  their  own  parents.  I  have 
.lain  awake  at  nights  figuring  this,  Daddy;  some  woman  is 
urging  me  every  day  to  join  different  movements,  and 
I've  been  forced  to  study  this  out.  I  know  the  cause  of 
the  present  unrest  among  women." 

"And  it  is ?"  suggested  Mr.  Winton. 

"It  is  the  rebound  from  the  pioneer  lives  of  our  grand- 
mothers! They  .and  their  mothers  were  at  one  extreme; 
we  are  at  the  widest  sweep  of  the  other.  They  were  forced 
to  enter  the  forest  and  in  most  cases  defend  themselves 
.from  savages  and  animals;  to  work  without  tools,  to  live 
with  few  comforts,  In  their  determination  to  save  their 
children  from  hardships,  they  lost  sejise,  ballast  and  rea- 
son. They  have  saved  them  to  such  an  extent  they  have 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE  225 

lost  them.  By  the  very  method  of  their  rearing,  they 
have  robbed  their  children  of  love  for,  and  interest  in, 
home  life,  and  with  their  own  hands  sent  them  to  cafes 
and  dance  halls,  when  they  should  be  at  their  homes  train- 
ing their  children  for  the  fashioning  of  future  homes.  I 
tell  you,  Daddy " 

"Leslie,  tell  me  this,"  interposed  Mr.  Winton.  "Did 
you  get  any  small  part  of  what  you  have  been  saying  to 
me,  from  me  ?  Do  you  feel  what  I  have  tried  to  teach  you, 
and  the  manner  in  which  I  have  tried  to  rear  you,  have 
put  your  love  for  me  into  your  heart  and  such  ideas  as  you 
are  propounding  into  your  head?" 

"Of  course,  Daddy!"  cried  the  girl.  "Who  else? 
Mother  was  dear  and  wonderful,  but  I  scarcely  remember 
her.  What  you  put  into  the  growth  of  me,  that  is  what  is 
bound  to  come  out,  when  I  begin  to  live  independently." 

"This  is  the  best  moment  of  my  life!"  said  Mr.  Win- 
ton.  "From  your  birth  you  have  been  the  better  part 
of  me,  to  me;  and  with  all  my  heart  I  have  tried  to  fashion 
you  into  such  a  woman  for  a  future  home,  as  your  mother 
began,  and  you  have  completed  for  me.  Other  things 
have  failed  me;  I  count  you  my  success,  Leslie!" 

"Oh  Daddy!"  cried  the  happy  girl. 

"Now  go  back  to  our  start,"  said  Mr.  Winton.  "You 
have  plans  for  the  summer,  of  course!  I  realized  that  at 
the  beginning.  Are  you  ready  to  tell  me?" 

"I  am  ready  to  ask  you,"  she  said. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Winton.  "I  appreciate  the 
difference.  Surely  a  man  does  enjoy  counting  for  some- 
thing with  his  women." 


226  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Spoiled  shamelessly,  dearest,  that's  what  you  are," 
said  Leslie.  "A  spoiled,  pampered  father!  But  to  con- 
clude. Mr.  Swain  helped  you.  Pay  back,  Daddy,  no 
matter  what  the  cost;  pay  back.  You  help  him,  I'll  help 
you  !  My  idea  was  this:  for  weeks  I've  foreseen  that  you 
wouldn't  like  to  leave  business  this  summer.  Douglas  is 
delving  into  that  investigation  Mr.  Minturn  started  him 
on  and  he  couldn't  be  dragged  away.  He's  perfectly 
possessed.  Of  course  where  my  men  are,  like  Ruth,  'there 
will  be  I  also,'  so  for  days  I've  been  working  on  a  plan,  and 
now  it's  all  finished  and  waiting  your  veto  or  approval." 

"Thrilling,  Leslie!    Tell  quickly.     I'm  all  agog!" 

"It's  this:  let's  not  go  away  and  spend  big  sums  on 
travel,  dress,  and  close  the  house,  and  throw  our  people 
out  of  work.  Do  you  realize,  Daddy,  how  long  you've 
had  the  same  housekeeper,  cook,  maid  and  driver?  Do 
you  know  how  badly  I'd  feel  to  let  them  go,  and  risk 
getting  them  back  in  the  fall?  My  scheme  is  to  rent,  for 
practically  nothing,  a  log  cabin  I  know,  a  little  over  an 
hour's  run  from  here — a  log  cabin  with  four  rooms  and  a 
lean-to  and  a  log  stable,  beside  a  lake  where  there  is  grand 
fishing  and  swimming." 

"But  Leslie—      "  protested  Mr.  Winton. 

"Now  listen!"  cried  the  girl.  "The  rent  is  nominal. 
We  get  the  house,  stable,  orchard,  garden,  a  few  acres  and 
a  rented  cow.  The  cabin  has  two  tiny  rooms  above, 
one  for  you,  the  other  for  Douglas.  Below,  it  has  a 
room  for  me,  a  dining-room  and  a  kitchen.  The  big  log 
barn  close  beside  has  space  in  the  hay-mow  for  the  women, 
and  in  one  side  below  for  our  driver,  the  other  for  the  cars. 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE  227 

Over  the  cabin  is  a  grapevine.  Around  it  there  are  fruit 
trees.  There  is  a  large,  rich  garden.  If  I  had  your  per- 
mission I  could  begin  putting  in  vegetables  to-morrow  that 
would  make  our  summer  supply.  Rogers " 

"You  are  not  going  to  tell  me  Rogers  would  touch  a 
garden?"  queried  Mr.  Winton. 

"I  am  going  to  tell  you  that  Rogers  has  been  with  me 
in  every  step  of  my  investigations,"  replied  Leslie.  "Yes- 
terday I  called  in  my  household  and  gave  them  a  lecture 
on  the  present  crisis;  I  found  them  a  remarkably  well- 
informed  audience.  They  had  a  very  distinct  idea  that 
if  I  economized  by  dismissing  them  for  the  summer,  and 
leaving  the  house  with  a  caretaker,  what  it  would  mean  to 
them.  Then  I  took  my  helpers  into  the  car  and  drove 
out  the  Atwater  road — you  know  it  well  Daddy,  the  road 
that  runs  smooth  over  miles  of  country  and  then  in- 
stead of  jumping  into  a  lake  as  it  seems  to  be  going  to,  it 
swings  into  corduroy  through  a  marsh,  runs  up  on  a  little 
bridge  spanning  the  channel  between  two  lakes,  lifts  to 
Atwater  lake  shore,  than  which  none  is  more  lovely — you 
remember  the  white  sand  floor  and  the  clean  water  for 
swimming — climbs  another  hill,  and  opposite  beautiful 
wood,  there  stands  the  log  cabin  I  told  you  of,  there  I  took 
them  and  explained.  They  could  clean  up  in  a  day; 
Rogers  could  plant  the  garden  and  take  enough  on  one 
truck  load,  for  a  beginning.  We  may  have  wood  for  the 
fireplace  by  gathering  it  from  the  forest  floor.  Rogers 
again!" 

"Are  you  quite  sure  about  Rogers?" 

"Suppose  you  ride  with  him  going  down  and  ask  him 


228  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

yourself,"  suggested  Leslie.  "Rogers  is  anxious  to  hold 
his  place.  You  see  it's  like  this:  all  of  them  get  regular 
wages,  have  a  chance  at  the  swimming,  rowing,  gardening 
and  the  country.  The  saving  comes  in  on  living  expenses. 
Out  there  we  have  the  cow,  flour,  fish,  and  poultry  from 
the  neighbours,  fresh  eggs,  butter  and  the  garden — I  can 
cut  expenses  to  one-fourth;  lights  altogether.  Moonshine 
and  candles  will  serve;  cooking  fuel,  gasoline.  Daddy 
will  you  go  to-night  and  see?" 

"No,  I  won't  go  to-night  and  see,  I'll  go  swim  and  fish,'' 
said  Mr.  Winton.  "Great  Heavens,  Leslie,  do  you  really 
mean  to  live  all  summer  beside  a  lake,  where  a  man  can 
expand,  absorb  and  exercise?  I  must  get  out  my  fishing 
tackle.  I  wonder  what  Douglas  has!  I've  tried  that  lake 
when  bass  were  slashing  around  wild  thorn  and  crab  trees 
shedding  petals  and  bugs.  It  is  man's  sport  there!  I 
like  black  bass  fishing.  I  remember  that  water.  Fine 
for  swimming!  Not  the  exhilaration  of  salt,  perhaps,  but 
grand,  clean,  oM  northern  Indiana  water,  cooled  by  springs. 
I  love  it!  Lord,  Leslie!  Why  don't  we  own  that  place? 
Why  haven't  we  homed  there,  and  been  comfortable  for 
years  ? " 

"I  shall  go  ahead  then?"  queried  Leslie. 

"You  shall  go  a-hurry,  Miss,  hurry!"  cried  Mr.  Win- 
ton.  "I'll  give  you  just  two  days.  One  to  clean,  the 
other  to  move;  to-morrow  night  send  for  me.  I  want  a 
swim;  and  cornbread,  milk,  and  three  rashers  of  bacon  for 
my  dinner  and  nothing  else;  and  can't  the  maids  have  my 
room  and  let  me  have  a  blanket  on  the  hay?" 

"But  father,  the  garden!"  cautioned  Leslie. 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE  229. 

"Oh  drat  the  garden!"  cried  Mr.  Winton. 

"But  if  you  go  dratting  things,  I  can't  economize,"  the 
girl  reminded  him.  "  Rogers  and  I  have  that  garden  down 
on  paper,  and  it's  late  now/' 

"Leslie,  don't  the  golf  links  lie  half  a  mile  from  there?" 
.  "Closer  Daddy,"  said  the  girl,  "right  around  the 
corner." 

"I  don't  see  why  you  didn't  think  of  it  before,"  he  said., 
"Have  you  told  Douglas?" 

"Not  a  word!"  exclaimed  Leslie.  "I'm  going  to  invite 
him  out  when  everything  is  in  fine  order." 

"Don't  make  things  fine,"  said  Mr.  Winton.  "Let's 
have  them  rough!" 

"They  will  be  rough  enough  to  suit  you,  Daddy," 
laughed  Leslie,  "but  a  few  things  have  got  to  be  done." 

"Then  hurry,  but  don't  forget  the  snake  question." 

"People  are  and  have  been  living  there  for  generations^ 
common  care  is  all  that  is  required,"  said  Leslie.  "I'll  be 
careful,  but  if  you  tell  Bruce  until  I  am  ready,  I'll  never 
forgive  you." 

Mr.  Winton  arose.  "'Come  to  me  arms,'"  he  laughed, 
spreading  them  wide,  "I  wonder  if  Douglas  Bruce  knows 
what  a  treasure  he  is  going  to  possess!" 

"  Certainly  not ! "  said  Leslie  emphatically.  "  I  wouldn't 
have  him  know  for  the  world!  I  am  going  to  be  his  pro- 
gressive housekeeping  party,  to  which  he  is  invited  every 
day,  after  we  are  married,  and  each  day  he  has  got  a  new 
surprise  coming,  that  I  hope  he  will  like.  The  woman  who 
endures  and  wears  well  in  matrimony  is  the  one  who  'keeps 
something  to  herself.'  It's  my  opinion  that  IP.Qdern  mar- 


230  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

riage  would  be  more  satisfactory  if  the  engaged  parties 
would  not  come  so  nearly  being  married,  for  so  long  before 
they  are.  There  is  so  little  left  for  afterward,  in  most 
cases,  that  it  soon  grows  monotonous." 

"Leslie,  where  did  you  get  all  of  this?"  he  asked. 

"I  told  you.  From  you,  mostly,"  explained  the  girl, 
"and  from  watching  my  friends.  Go  on  Daddy!  And 
send  Rogers  back  soon!  I  want  to  begin  buying  radish 
seed  and  onion  sets." 

So  Leslie  telephoned  Douglas  Bruce  that  she  would  be 
very  busy  with  housekeeping  affairs  the  coming  two  days. 
She  made  a  list  of  what  would  be  required  for  that  day, 
left  the  maids  to  collect  it,  and  went  to  buy  seeds  and  a  few 
tools;  then  returning  she  divided  her  forces  and  leaving 
part  to  pack  the  bedding,  old  dishes  and  things  absolutely 
required  for  living,  and  stocking  the  pantry,  she  took  the 
loaded  car  and  drove  to  Atwater  Lake. 

The  owner  of  the  land,  a  cultured,  refined  gentleman, 
who  spoke  the  same  brand  of  English  used  by  the  Wintons, 
and  evinced  a  knowledge  of  the  same  books,  was  genuinely 
interested  in  Leslie  and  her  plans.  It  was  a  land  owner's 
busiest  season,  but  he  spared  a  man  an  hour  with  a  plow 
to  turn  up  the  garden,  and  came  down  himself  and  with 
practiced  hand  swung  the  scythe,  and  made  sure  about 
the  snakes.  Soon  the  maids  had  the  cabin  walls  swept, 
the  floors  scrubbed,  the  windows  washed,  and  that  was  all 
that  could  be  done.  The  seeds  were  earth  enfolded  in 
warm  black  beds,  with  flower  seeds  tucked  in  for  borders. 
The  cut  grass  was  raked  back,  and  spread  to  dry  for  the 
icnted  cow. 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE  231 

When  nothing  further  was  to  be  accomplished  there, 
they  returned  to  Multiopolis  to  hasten  preparations  for 
the  coming  day.  It  was  all  so  good  Leslie  stopped  at  her 
father's  office  to  see  if  she  could  speak  with  him,  and 
poured  a  flood  of  cloverbloom,  bird  notes  and  water  shim- 
mer into  his  willing  ears. 

She  seldom  went  to  Douglas  Bruce's  offices,  but  she  ran 
up  a  few  moments  to  try  in  person  to  ease  what  she  felt 
would  be  disappointment  in  not  spending  the  evening  with 
her.  The  day  would  be  full  far  into  the  night  with  affairs 
at  home,  he  would  notice  the  closing  of  the  house,  and  she 
could  not  risk  him  spoiling  her  plans  by  finding  out  what 
they  were,  before  she  was  ready.  She  found  him  sur- 
rounded with  huge  ledgers,  delving  and  already  fretting  for 
Mickey.  She  stood  laughing  in  his  doorway,  half  piqued 
to  find  him  so  absorbed  in  his  work,  and  so  full  of  the  boy 
he  was  missing,  that  he  seemed  to  take  her  news  that  she 
was  too  busy  to  see  him  that  night  with  quite  too  bearable 
calmness;  but  his  earnestness  about  coming  the  following 
night  worked  his  pardon,  so  Leslie  left  laughing  to  herself 
over  the  surprise  in  store  for  him. 

Bruce  bent  over  his  work,  praying  for  Mickey.  Every- 
thing went  wrong  without  him.  He  was  enough  irritated 
by  the  boy  who  was  not  Mickey,  that  when  the  boy  who 
was  Mickey  came  to  his  door,  he  was  delighted  to  see  him. 
He  wanted  to  say:  "Hello,  little  friend.  Come  get  in  the 
game,  quickly!"  but  two  considerations  withheld  him: 
Mickey's  manners  were  a  trifle  too  casual;  at  times  they 
irritated  Douglas,  and  if  he  took  the  boy  into  his  life  as  he 
hoped  to,  he  would  come  into  constant  contact  with  Leslie 


'232  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

and  her  friends,  who  were  cultured  people  of  homing  in- 
stincts. Mickey's  manners  must  be  polished,  and  the  way 
to  do  it  was  not  to  drop  to  his  level,  but  to  improve  Mickey, 
And  again,  the  day  before,  he  had  told  Mickey  to  sit  down 
and  wait  until  an  order  was  given  him.  To  invite  him  to 
"get  in  the  game"  now,  was  good  alliteration;  it  pleased 
the  formal  Scotch  ear  as  did  many  another  United  States 
phrase  of  the  street,  so  musical,  concise  and  packed  with 
meaning  as  to  become  almost  classic;  but  in  his  heart  he 
meant  as  Mickey  had  suspected,  "to  do  him  good";  so  he 
must  lay  his  foundations  with  care.  What  he  said  was  a. 
cordial  and  cheerful,  "Good  morning!" 

"Noon,"  corrected  Mickey.  "Right  ye  are!  Good  it 
is!  What's  my  job?  'Scuse  me!/  I  won't  ask  that 
again!" 

"Plenty,"  Douglas  admitted,  "but  first,  any  luck  with 
the  paper  route?" 

"All  over  but  killing  the  boy  I  sold  it  to,  if  he  doesn't 
do  right.  I  ain't  perfectly  crazy  about  him.  He's  a 
papa's  boy  and  pretty  soft;  but  maybe  he'll  learn.  It 
was  a  fine  chance  for  me,  so  I  soaked  it." 

"To  whom  did  you  sell,  Mickey?"  asked  Douglas. 

"To  your  driver,  for  his  boy,"  answered  Mickey.  "We 
talked  it  over  last  night.  Say,  was  your  driver  'the  same 
continued,'  or  did  you  detect  glimmerings  of  beefsteak  and 
blood  in  him  this  morning?" 

"Why?"  asked  Douglas  curiously. 

"Oh  he's  such  a  stiff,"  explained  Mickey.  "He  looks 
about  as  lively  as  a  salted  herring." 

"And  did  you  make  an  effort  to  enliven  him,  Mickey?'* 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE  233 

"Sure!"  cried  Mickey.  "The  operation  was  highly 
successful!  The  patient  made  a  fine  recovery.  Right  on 
the  job,  right  on  the  street,  right  at  the  thickest  traffic 
corner,  right  at  'dead  man's  crossing,'  he  let  out  a  whoop 
that  split  the  features  of  a  copper  who  hadn't  smiled  in 
years.  It  was  a  double  play  and  it  worked  fine.  What  I 
want  to  know  is  whether  it  was  fleeting  or  holds  over." 

"It  must  be  'over,'  Mickey,"  said  Douglas.  "Since 
you  mention  it,  he  opened  the  door  with  the  information 
that  it  was  a  fine  morning,  while  I  recall  that  there  was 
colour  on  his  face,  and  light  in  his  usually  dull  eyes." 

"Good!"  cried  Mickey.  "Then  there's  some  hope  that 
his  kid  may  go  and  do  likewise." 

"Th2  boy  who  takes  your  route  has  to  smile,  Mickey?" 

"Well  you  see  most  of  my  morning 'customers  are  regu- 
lars, so  they  are  used  to  it,"  said  Mickey.  "The  minute 
one  goes  into  his  paper,  he's  lost  'til  knocking  off  time;  but 
if  he  starts  on  a  real-wide-a-wake-soulful  smile,  he's  a 
chance  of  reproducing  it,  before  the  day  is  over,  leastwise 
he  has  more  chance  than  if  he  never  smiles." 

"So  it  is  a  part  of  the  contract  that  the  boy  smiles  at  his 
work?"  questioned  Douglas. 

"It  is  so  /"  exclaimed  Mickey.  "I  asked  Mr.  Chaffner 
at  the  Herald  office  what  was  a  fair  price  for  my  route. 
You  see  I've  sold  the  Herald  from  the  word  go,  and  we're 
pretty  thick.  So  he  told  me  what  he  thought.  It  lifted 
my  lid,  but  when  I  communicated  it  to  Henry,  casual  like, 
he  never  batted  an  eye,  so  I  am  going  to  try  his  boy  'til  I'm 
satisfied.  If  he  can  swing  the  job  it's  a  go." 

"Your  customers  should  give  you  a  vote  of  thanks!" 


"434  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"And  so  they  will!"  cried  Mickey.  "You  see  the  men 
who  buy  of  me  are  the  top  crust  of  Multiopolis,  the  big 
fine  men  who  can  smile,  and  open  their  heads  and  say  a 
pleasant  word,  and  they  like  to.  It  does  them  good!  I 
live  on  it!  I  always  get  my  papers  close  home  as  I  can  so 
I  have  time  coming  down  on  the  cars  to  take  a  peep  my- 
self, and  nearly  always  there  are  at  least  three  things  on  the 
first  page  that  hit  you  in  the  eye.  Once  long  ago  I  was  in 
the  Herald  office  with  a  note  to  Chaffner  the  big  chief,  and 
I  gave  him  a  little  word  jostle  as  I  passed  it  over.  He 
looked  at  me  and  laughed  good  natured  like,  so  I  handed 
him  this:  'Are  you  the  big  stiff  that  bosses  the  make-up?* 
He  says,  'Mostly!  I  can  control  it  if  I  want  to.'  'All 
right  for  you,'  I  said.  'I  live  by  selling  your  papers,  but 
I  could  sell  a  heap  more  if  I  had  a  better  chance.'  'Chance 
in  what  way?'  said  he.  'Building  your  first  page,'  said  I. 
He  said,  'Sure.  What  is  it  that  you  want?'  'I'll  show 
you,'  said  I.  Til  give  you  the  call  I  used  this  morning.' 
Then  I  cut  loose  and  just  like  on  the  street  I  cried  it,  and 
he  yelled  some  himself.  'What  more  do  you  want?'  he 
asked  me.  'A  lot,'  I  said.  'You  see  I  only  got  a  little 
time  on  the  cars  before  my  men  begin  to  get  on,  and  my 
time  is  precious.  I  can't  read  second,  third,  and  forty- 
eleventh  pages  hunting  up  eye-openers.  I  must  get  them 
first  page,  'cause  I'm  short  time,  and  got  my  pack  to  hang 
on  to.  Now  makin'-up,  if  you'd  a-put  that  "Germans 
driven  from  the  last  foot  of  Belgian  soil,"  first,  it  would 
a-been  better,  'cause  that's  what  every  living  soul  wants. 
Then  the  biggest  thing  about  ourselves.  Place  it  prominent 
in  big  black  letters,  where  I  get  it  quick  and  easy,  and  then 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE  235 

put  me  in  a  scream.  Get  me  a  laugh  in  my  call,  and  I'll  sell 
you  out  all  by  myself.  Folks  are  spending  millions  per 
annum  for  the  glad  scream  at  night,  they'll  pay  just  the 
same  morning,  give  them  a  chance.  I  live  on  a  laugh/ 
said  I,  to  Chaffner.  He  looked  me  over  and  he  said: 
'When  you  get  too  big  for  the  papers,  you  come  to  me 
and  I'll  make  a  top-notch  reporter  out  of  you.'  'Thanks 
Boss/  said  I,  'you  couldn't  graft  that  job  on  to  me,  with 
asphaltum  and  a  buzz  saw.  I'm  going  to  be  on  your  front 
page  'fore  you  know  it,  but  it's  going  to  be  a  poetry  piece 
that  will  raise  your  hair;  I  ain't  going  to  frost  my  cake, 
poking  into  folks'  private  business,  telling  shameful  things 
on  them  that  half  kills  them.  Lots  of  times  I  see  them 
getting  their  dose  on  the  cars,  and  they  just  shiver,  and  go 
white,  and  shake.  Nix  on  the  printing  about  shame,  and 
sin,  and  trouble  in  the  papers  for  me! '  I  said,  and  he  just 
laughed  and  looked  at  me  closer  and  he  said,  'All  right! 
Bring  your  poetry  yourself,  and  if  they  don't  Jet  you 
in,  give  them  this/  and  he  wrote  a  line  I  got  at  home 
yet." 

"Is  that  all  about  ChafFner?"  asked  Douglas. 

"Oh  no!"  said  Mickey.  "He  said,  'Well  here  is  a  batch 
of  items  being  written  up  for  first  page  to-morrow.  Ac- 
cording to  you,  I  should  give  "Belgian  citizens  flocking 
back  to  search  for  devastated  homes,"  the  first  place?' 
'That's  got  the  first  place  in  the  heart  of  every  man  in 
God's  world.  Giving  it  first  place  is  putting  it  where 
it  belongs.'  'Here's  the  rest  of  it/  said  he,  'what  do 
you  want  next?'  'At  the  same  glance  I  always  take,  this' 
said  I,  pointing  to  where  it  said,  'Movement  on  foot  to 


236  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

eliminate  graft  from  city  offices.'  'You  think  that  comes 
next?'  said  he.  'Sure!'  said  I.  'Hits  the  pocketbook! 
Sure!  Heart  first!  Money  next!'  'Are  you  so  sure  it 
isn't  exactly  the  reverse?'  asked  he.  'Know  it!'  said  I. 
'Watch  the  crowds  any  day,  and  every  clip  you'll  see  that 
loving  a  man's  country,  and  his  home,  and  his  kids,  and 
getting  fair  play,  comes  before  money.'  'Yes,  I  guess  it 
does!'  he  said  thoughtful  like,  'least  it  should.  We'll 
make  it  the  policy  of  this  paper  to  put  it  that  way  anyhow. 
What  next?'  'Now  your  laugh,'  said  I.  'And  while  you 
are  at  it,  make  it  a  scream!'  'All  right,'  he  said,  'I 
haven't  anything  funny  in  yet,  but  I'll  get  it.  Now  show 
me  where  you  want  these  spaced.'  So  I  showed  him,  and 
every  single  time  you  look,  you'll  see  Mr.  Herald  is  made 
up  that  way,  and  you  ought  to  hear  me  trolling  out  that 
Belgian  line,  soft  and  easy,  snapping  in  the  graft  quick- 
like,  and  then  yelling  out  the  scream.  You  bet  it  catches 
them !  If  I  can't  get  that  kid  on  to  his  job,  'spect  I'll  have 
to  take  it  back  myself;  least  if  he  can't  get  on,  he's  doomed 
to  get  off.  I  gave  him  a  three  days'  try,  and  if  he  doesn't 
catch  by  that  time,  he  never  will.  See?" 

"But  how  are  you  going  to  know?"  asked  Douglas. 

"I'm  going  down  early  and  follow  him  and  drill  him  like 
a  Dutch  recruit,  and  he'll  wake  up  my  men,  and  interest 
them  and  fetch  the  laugh  or  he'll  stop!" 

"You  think  you  got  a  fair  price?"  asked  Douglas. 

"Know  it!  All  it's  worth,  and  it  looks  like  a  margin  to 
me,"  said  Mickey. 

"That's  all  right  then,  and  thank  you  for  telling  me 
about  the  papers,"  said  Douglas.  "I  enjoyed  it  im- 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE  237 

mensely.  I  see  you  are  a  keen  student  of  human  na- 
ture." 

"  'Bout  all  the  studying  I  get  a  chance  at,"  said  Mickey. 

"You'll  have  opportunity  at  other  things  now,"  said 
Douglas.  "Since  you  mention  it,  I  see  your  point  about 
the  papers,  and  if  that  works  on  business  men  going  to 
business,  it  should  work  on  a  jury.  I  think  I've  had  it  in 
mind,  that  I  was  to  be  a  compendium  of  information 
and  impress  on  a  judge  or  jury  what  I  know,  and  why  what 
I  say  is  right.  You  give  me  the  idea  that  a  better  way 
would  be  to  impress  on  them  what  they  know.  Put  it 
like  this:  first  soften  their  hearts,  next  touch  their  pockets, 
then  make  them  laugh;  is  that  the  idea  Mickey?" 

"Duck  again!  You're  doing  fine!  I  ain't  made  my 
living  selling  men  papers  for  this  long  not  to  know  the  big 
boys  some,  and  more.  Each  man  is  different,  but  you 
can  cod  him,  or  bluff  him,  or  scare  him,  or  let  down  the 
floodgates;  some  way  you  can  put  it  over  if  you  take 
each  one  separate,  and  hit  him  where  he  lives.  See? 
Finding  his  dwelling  place  is  the  trouble." 

"Mickey,  I  do  see,"  cried  Douglas.  "What  you  tell  me 
will  be  invaluable  to  me.  You  know  I  am  from  another 
land  so  I  have  personal  ways  of  thinking  and  the  men 
I'm  accustomed  to  are  different.  What  I  have  been  cen- 
tring on  is  myself,  and  what  I  can  do." 

"Won't  work  here!  What  you  got  to  get  a  bead  on 
here  is  the  other  fellow,  and  how  to  do  him.  See?" 

"Take  these  books  and  fly,"  said  Douglas.  "I've  spent 
one  of  the  most  profitable  hours  of  my  life,  but  concretely 
it  is  an  hour,  and  we're  going  to  the  Country  Club  to-night 


238  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

and  may  stay  as  long  as  we  choose — as  you  can,  I  mean — 
and  we're  going  to  have  a  grand  time.  You  like  going 
to  the  country,  don't  you?" 

"Ain't  words  for  telling,"  said  Mickey,  gathering  his 
armload  of  books  and  racing  down  the  hall. 

When  the  day's  work  was  finished,  with  a  load  of  books 
to  deliver  before  an  office  closed,  they  started  on  the  run 
to  the  club  house.  Bruce  waited  in  the  car  while  Mickey 
sped  in  with  the  books,  and  returning,  to  save  opening  the 
door  and  crossing  before  the  man  he  was  fast  beginning 
to  idolize,  Mickey  took  one  of  his  swift  cuts  across  the 
back  end  of  the  car.  While  his  hand  was  outstretched 
and  his  foot  uplifted  to  enter,  from  a  high-piled  passing 
truck  toppled  a  box,  not  a  big  box,  but  large  enough 
to  knock  Mickey  senseless  and  breathless  when  it  struck 
him  between  the  shoulders.  Douglas  had  Mickey  in 
the  car  with  orders  for  the  nearest  hospital,  toward  which 
they  were  hurrying,  when  the  boy  opened  his  eyes  and 
sat  up.  He  looked  inquiringly  at  Douglas,  across  whose 
knees  he  had  found  himself. 

"Wha — what  happened?"  he  questioned  with  his  first 
good  indrawing  of  recovered  breath. 

"A  box  fell  from  a  truck  loaded  past  reason  and  almost 
knocked  the  life  out  of  you!"  cried  Douglas. 

"Knocked  the  life  out  of  me?'"  repeated  Mickey. 

"You've  been  senseless  for  three  blocks,  Mickey." 

A  slow  horror  spread  over  Mickey's  face. 

"Wha — what  was  you  going  to  do?"  he  wavered. 

"Running  for  a  hospital,"  said  Douglas. 
5 'pose    my   head   had    been    busted,    and    I'd  been 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE  239 

stretched  on  the  glass  table  and  maybe  laid  up  for  days  or 
knocked  out  altogether?"  demanded  Mickey. 

"You'd  have  had  the  best  surgeon  in  Multiopolis,  and 
every  care,  Mickey,"  assured  Douglas. 

"Ugh!"      Mickey  collapsed  utterly. 

"Must  be  hurt  worse  than  I  thought,"  was  Douglas* 
mental  comment.  "He  couldn't  be  a  coward!" 

But  Mickey  almost  proved  that  very  thing  by  re- 
gaining his  senses  again,  and  immediately  falling  into 
;pasms  of  long-drawn,  shuddering  sobbing.  Douglas  held 
him  carefully,  every  moment  becoming  firmer  in  his  con- 
viction of  one  of  two  things:  either  he  was  hurt  worse  or 

he  was •  He  would  not  let  himself  think  it;  but  never 

did  boy  appear  to  less  advantage.  Douglas  urged  the 
driver  to  speed.  Mickey  heard  and  understood. 

"Never  mind,"  he  sobbed.  "I'm  all  right  Mr.  Bruce; 
I  ain't  hurt.  Not  much!  I'll  be  all  right  in  a  minute!" 

"If  you're  not  hurt,  what  is  the  matter  with  you?" 

"A  minute!"  gasped  Mickey,  as  another  spasm  of  sob- 
bing caught  him. 

"  I  am  amazed ! "  cried  Douglas.  "A  little  jolt  like  that ! 
You  are  acting  like  a  coward,  Mickey!" 

The  word  straightened  Mickey. 

"Coward!  Who?  Me!"  he  cried.  "Me  that's  made 
my  way  since  I  can  remember?  Coward,  did  you  say?" 

"Of  course  not,  Mickey!"  cried  Douglas.  "Excuse  me. 
I  shouldn't  have  said  that.  But  it  is  unlike  you.  What 
the  devil  is  the  matter  with  you?" 

"I  helped  carry  in  a  busted  head  and  saw  the  glass  table 
once,"  he  cried.  "Inch  more  and  it  would  a-been  my  head 


24o  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

—and  I  might  have  been  knocked  out  for  days.  O  Lord! 
\Vhatwill  I  do?" 

"Mickey  you're  not  afraid?"  asked  Douglas. 

"Traid?  Me?  'Bout  as  good  as  coward!"  com- 
mented Mickey. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you?"  demanded  Douglas. 

Mickey  stared  at  him  amazedly. 

"O  Lord!"  he  panted.  "You  don't  s'pose  I  was  think- 
ing about  myself,  do  you?" 

"I  don't  know  what  to  think!"  exclaimed  Douglas. 

"Sure!    How  could  you?"  conceded  Mickey. 

He  choked  back  another  big  dry  sob. 

"Gimme  a  minute  to  think!"  he  said.  "OGod!  What 
have  I  been  doing?  I  see  now  what  I'm  up  against!" 

"Mickey,"  said  Douglas  Bruce,  suddenly  filled  with 
swelling  compassion,  "I  am  beginning  to  understand. 
Won't  you  tell  me?" 

"I  guess  I  got  to,"  panted  Mickey.     "But  I'm  afraid! 

0  Lord,  I'm  so  afraid!" 

"Afraid  of  me,  Mickey?"  asked  Douglas  gently  now. 
"Yes,  afraid  of  you,"  said  Mickey,  "and  afraid  of  her. 
Afraid  of  her,  more  than  you." 

"You  mean  Miss  Winton?"  pursued  Douglas. 

"Yes,  I  mean  Miss  Winton,"  replied  Mickey.     "I  guess 

1  don't  risk  her,  or  you  either.     I  guess  I  go  to  the  Nurse 
Lady.     She's  used  to  folks  in  trouble.     She's  trained  to 
know  what  to  do.     Why  sure!     That's  the  thing!" 

"Your  back  hurts,  Mickey?"  questioned  Douglas. 
"My  back  hurts?     Aw  forget  my  back!"  cried  Mickey 
roughly.     "I  ain't  hurt,  honest  I  ain't," 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE  241 

Douglas  took  a  long  penetrating  look  at  the  small  shak- 
ing figure,  then  he  said  softly:  "I  wish  you  wanted  to  con- 
fide in  me,  Mickey!  I  can't  tell  you  how  glad  I'd  be  if 
you'd  trust  me;  but  if  you  have  some  one  else  you  like 
better,  where  is  it  you  want  to  be  driven?" 

"Course  there  ain't  any  one  I  like  better  than  you, 

'cept "  he  caught  a  name  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue  and 

paused.  "You  see  it's  like  this,"  he  explained :  "I've  been 
to  this  Nurse  Lady  before,  and  I  know  exactly  what  she'll 
say  and  think.  If  you  don't  think  like  I  do,  and  if  you 
go  and  take — — " 

"Gracious  Heaven  Mickey,  you  don't  think  I'd  try  to 
take  anything  you  wanted,  do  you?"  demanded  Douglas. 

"I  don't  know  what  you'd  do,"  said  Mickey.  "I  only 
know  what  one  Swell  Dame  I  struck  wanted  to  do." 

"Mickey,"  said  Douglas,  "when  I  don't  know  what 
you  are  thinking  about,  I  can't  be  of  much  help;  but  I'd 
give  considerable  if  you  felt  that  you  had  come  to  love  me 
enough  to  trust  me." 

"Trust  you?  Sure  I  trust  you,  about  myself.  But  this 
is "  cried  Mickey. 

"This  is  about  some  one  else?"  asked  Douglas  casually. 

Mickey  leaned  forward,  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  his  head 
bent  with  intense  thinking. 

"Much  as  you  are  doing  for  me,"  he  muttered,  "if  you 
really  care,  if  it  makes  a  difference  to  you — of  course  I  can 
trust  you,  if  you  don't  think  as  I  do!" 

"You  surely  can!"  cried  Douglas  Bruce.  "Now 
Mickey,  both  of  us  are  too  shaken  to  care  for  the  country; 
take  me  home  with  you  and  let's  have  supper  together  and 


242  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

become  acquainted.  We  can't  know  each  other  on  my 
ground  alone.  I  must  meet  you  on  yours,  and  prove  that 
I'm  really  your  friend.  Let's  go  where  you  live  and  clean 
up  and  have  supper." 

"Go  where  I  live?     You?"  cried  Mickey. 

"Yes!  You  come  from  where  you  live  fresh  and  clean 
each  day,  so  can  I.  Take  me  home  with  you.  I  want  to 
go  dreadfully,  Mickey.  Please?" 

"Well,  I  ain't  such  a  cad  I'm  afraid  for  you  to  see  how  I 
live,"  he  said.  "Though  you  wouldn't  want  to  come  more 
than  once;  that  ain't  what  I  was  thinking  about." 

"Think  all  you  like,  Mickey,"  said  Douglas.  "Henry, 
drive  to  the  end  of  the  car  line  where  you've  gone  be- 
fore." 

On  the  way  he  stopped  at  a  grocery,  then  a  cafe,  and  at 
each  place  piles  of  tempting  packages  were  placed  in  the 
car.  Mickey's  brain  was  working  fast.  One  big  fact 
was  beginning  to  lift  above  all  the  others.  His  treasure 
was  slipping  from  him,  and  for  her  safety  it  had  to  be  so. 
If  he  had  been  struck  on  the  head,  forced  to  undergo  an 

operation,  and  had  lain  insensible  for  hours Mickey 

could  get  no  further  with  that  thought.  He  had  to  stop 
and  proceed  with  the  other  part  of  his  problem.  Of  course 
she  was  better  off  with  him  than  where  she  had  been;  no 
sane  person  could  dispute  that;  she  was  happy  and  looking 
improved  each  day  but — could  she  be  made  happier  and 
cared  for  still  better  by  some  one  else,  and  cured  without 
the  long  wait  for  him  to  earn  the  money?  If  she  could, 
what  would  be  the  right  name  for  him,  if  he  kept  her  on 
what  he  could  do?  So  they  came  at  last  as  near  as  the 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE  243' 

car  could  go  to  Mickey's  home  in  Sunrise  Alley.  At  the 
foot  of  the  last  flight  Mickey  paused,  package  laden. 

"Now  I'll  have  to  ask  you  to  wait  a  minute,"  he  said. 

He  ascended,  unlocked  the  door  and  stepped  inside. 
Peaches'  eyes  gleamed  with  interest  at  the  packages,  but 
she  waved  him  back.  As  Mickey  closed  the  door  she 
cried:  "My  po'try  piece!  Say  it,  Mickey!" 

"You'll  have  to  wait  again,"  said  Mickey.  "I  got  hit 
in  the  back  with  a  box  and  it  knocked  the  poetry  out  of 
me.  You'll  have  to  wait  'til  after  supper  to-night,  and 
then  I'll  fix  the  grandest  one  yet.  Will  that  do?" 

"Yes,  if  the  box  hit  hard,  Mickey,"  conceded  Peaches. 

"It  hit  so  blame  hard,  Miss  Chicken,  that  it  knocked 
me  down  and  knocked  me  out,  and  Mr.  Bruce  picked  me 
up  and  carried  me  three  blocks  in  his  car  before  I  got  my 
wind  or  knew  what  ailed  me." 

Peaches'  face  was  tragic;  her  hands  stretched  toward 
him.  Mickey  was  young,  and  his  brain  was  whirling  so 
it  whirled  off  the  thought  that  came  first. 

"And  if  it  had  hit  me  hard  enough  to  bust  my  head,  and 
I'd  been  carried  to  a  hospital  to  be  mended  and  wouldn't 
a-knowed  what  hurt  me  for  days,  like  sometimes,  who'd 
a-fed  and  bathed  you,  Miss?" 

Peaches  gazed  at  him  wordless. 

"You  close  your  mouth  and  tell  me,  Miss,"  demanded 
Mickey,  brutal  with  emotion.  "If  I  hadn't  come,  what 
would  you  have  done?" 

Peaches  shut  her  mouth  and  stared  while  it  was  closed. 
At  last  she  ventured  a  solution. 

"  You'd  a-told  our  Nurse  Lady,"  she  said. 


244  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Mickey  made  an  impatient  gesture. 

"Hospitals  by  the  dozen,  kid,"  he  said,  "and  not  a 
chance  in  a  hundred  I'd  been  took  to  the  'Star  of  Hope/ 
and  times  when  your  head  is  busted,  you  don't  know  a 
thing  for  'most  a  week.  What  would  you  do  if  I  didn't 
come  for  a  week?" 

"I'd  have  to  slide  off  the  bed  if  it  killed  me,  and  roll 
to  the  cupboard,  and  make  the  things  do,"  said  Peaches. 

"You  couldn't  get  up  to  it  to  save  your  life,"  said 
Mickey,  "and  there's  never  enough  for  a  week,  and  you 
couldn't  get  to  the  water — what  would  you  do  ?  " 

"Mickey,  what  would  I  do?"  wavered  Peaches. 

"Well,  I  know,  if  you  don't,"  said  Mickey,  "and  I  ain't 
going  to  tell  you;  but  I'll  tell  you  this  much:  you'd  be 
scared  and  hurt  worse  than  you  ever  was  yet;  and  it's 
soon  going  to  be  too  hot  for  you  here,  so  I  got  to  move  you 
to  a  cooler  place,  and  I  don't  risk  being  the  only  one  know- 
ing where  you  are  another  day;  or  my  think-tank  will  split. 
It's  about  split  now.  I  don't  want  to  do  it,  Miss,  but  I 
got  to,  so  you  take  your  drink  and  lemme  straighten  you, 
and  wash  your  face,  and  put  your  pretties  on;  then  Mr. 
Douglas  Bruce,  that  we  work  for  now,  is  coming  to  see  you 
and  he's  going  to  stay  for  supper —  Now  cut  it  out! 
Shut  right  up!  You  needn't  beller,  nor  get  scared,  nor 
have  a  tantrum;  he's  sitting  out  there  on  the  hot  steps 
where  it's  a  lot  worse  than  here,  and  this  is  bad  enough, 
and  we  ain't  got  time,  and  he  won't  'get'  you;  you  needn't 
ask;  what  would  he  want  of  you?  Here,  lemme  fix  you, 
and  you  see,  Miss,  that  you  act  a  lady  girl,  and  don't  make 
me  lose  my  job  with  my  boss,  or  we  can't  pay  our  rent. 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE  245 

Hold  still  'til  I  get  your  ribbon  right,  and  slip  a  fresh 
nightie  on  you.  There!" 

"  Mickey "  began  Peaches. 

"Shut  up!"  said  Mickey  in  desperation.  "Now  mind 
this,  Miss!  You  belong  to  me  !  I'm  taking  care  of  you. 
You  answer  what  he  says  to  you  pretty  or  you'll  not  get 
any  supper  this  night,  and  look  at  them  bundles  he  got. 
Sit  up  and  be  nice!  This  is  a  party!" 

Mickey  darted  around  arranging  the  room,  then  he 
flung  the  door  wide  and  called :  "  Ready ! " 

Douglas  Bruce  climbed  the  stairs  and  entered  the  door. 
As  Mickey  expected,  his  gaze  centred  and  stopped.  Mickey 
began  taking  packages  from  his  hands;  still  gazing  Douglas 
yielded  them.  Then  he  stepped  forward  when  Mickey 
placed  the  chair,  and  said:  "Mr.  Douglas  Bruce,  this  is 
Lily.  This  is  Lily  Peaches  O'Halloran.  Will  you  have  a 
chair?"  He  turned  to  Peaches,  put  his  arm  around  her, 
drawing  her  to  him  as  he  bent  to  kiss  her. 

"He's  all  right,  Flowersy-girl,"  he  said.  "We  like  to 
have  him  come.  He's  our  friend.  Our  big,  nice  friend 
who  won't  let  a  soul  on  earth  get  us.  -  He  doesn't  even 
want  us  himself,  'cause  he's  got  one  girl.  His  girl  is  the 
Moonshine  Lady  that  sent  you  the  doll.  Maybe  she 
will  come  some  day  too,  and  maybe  she'll  make  the  Pre- 
cious Child  a  new  dress.  Where  is  she?" 

Peaches  clung  to  Mickey  and  past  him  peered  at  her 
visitor,  and  the  visitor  smiled  his  most  winning  smile. 
He  recognized  Leslie's  ribbon,  and  noted  the  wondrous 
beauty  of  the  small  white  face,  now  slowly  flushing  the 
faintest  pink  with  excitemenv  Still  clinging  she  smiled 


246  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

back.     Wordless,  Douglas  reached  over  to  pick  up  the 
doll.     Then  the  right  thought  came  at  last. 

"Has  the  Precious  Child  been  good  to-day?"  he  asked. 

Peaches  released  Mickey,  dropping  back  against  her 
pillows,  her  smile  now  dazzling. 

"Jus'  as  good  !"  she  said. 

"Fine!"  said  Douglas,  straightening  the  long  dress. 

"An*  that's  my  slate  and  lesson,"  said  Peaches. 

"Fine!"  he  said  again  as  if  it  were  the  only  adjective 
he  knew.  Mickey  glanced  at  him,  grinning  sympathet- 
ically, "She  does  sort  of  knock  you  out!"  he  said. 

"'Sort'  is  rather  poor.  Completely,  would  be  better," 
said  Douglas.  "She's  the  loveliest  little  sister  in  all  the 
world,  Mickey,  but  she  doesn't  resemble  you.  Is  she  like 
your  mother?" 

"Lily  isn't  my  sister,  only  as  you  wanted  me  for  a 
brother,"  said  Mickey.  "She  was  left  and  nobody  was 
taking  care  of  her.  She's  my  find  and  you  bet  your  life 
I'm  going  to  always  keep  her!" 

"Oh!     And  how  long  have  you  had  her,  Mickey?" 
'Now  that's  just  what  the  Orphings'  Home  dame  asked 
me,"  said  Mickey  with  finality,  "and  we  are  nix  on  those 
dames  and  their  askings.     Lily  is  mine,  I  tell  you.     My 
family.     Now  you  visit  with  her,  while  I  get  supper." 

Mickey  pushed  up  the  table,  then  began  opening  pack- 
ages and  setting  forth  their  contents.  Watching  him  as  he 
moved  swiftly  and  with  assurance,  his  head  high,  his 
lips  even,  a  slow  deep  respect  for  the  big  soul  in  the  little 
body  began  to  dawn  in  the  heart  of  Douglas  Bruce.  Un- 
derstanding of  Mickey  came  in  rivers  swift  and  strong,  so 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LIFE  247 

while  he  wondered  and  while  he  watched  entranced,  over 
and  over  in  his  head  went  the  line:  "Fools  rush  in  where 
angels  fear  to  tread."  With  every  gentle  act  of  Mickey 
for  the  child  Douglas'  liking  for  him  grew.  When  he  went 
over  the  supper  and  with  the  judgment  of  a  nurse  selected 
the  most  delicate  and  suitable  food  for  her,  or  each  uplift 
of  her  adoring  eyes  to  Mickey's  responsive  face,  in  the  heart 
of  the  Scotsman  swelled  the  marvel  and  the  miracle  that 
silenced  criticism. 


CHAPTER  XI 
THE  ADVENT  OF  NANCY  AND  PETER 

WHEN  Leslie  began  the  actual  work  of  closing 
her  home,  and  loading  what  would  be  wanted 
for  the  country,  she  found  the  task  too  big  for 
the  time  allotted,  so  wisely  telephoned  Douglas  that  she 
would  be  compelled  to  postpone  seeing  him  until  the  fol- 
lowing day. 

"Leslie,"  laughed  Douglas  over  the  telephone,  "did 
you  ever  hear  of  the  man  who  cut  off  his  dog's  tail  an  inch 
at  a  time,  so  it  wouldn't  hurt  so  badly?" 

"I  have  heard  of  that  particular  dog." 

"Well  this  process  of  cutting  me  out  of  seeing  you  a  day 
at  a  time  reminds  me  of  'that  particular  dog/  and  evokes 
my  sympathy  for  the  canine  as  never  before." 

"It's  a  surprise  I  am  getting  ready  for  you  Douglas!" 

"It  is  a  surprise  all  right,"  answered  Douglas,  "and 
*  Bearer  of  Morning,'  I  have  got  a  surprise  for  you 
too." 

"Oh  goody!"  cried  Leslie.     "I  adore  surprises." 

"You'll  adore  this  one!" 

"You  might  give  me  a  hint!"  she  suggested. 

"Very  well!"  he  laughed.  "Since  last  I  saw  you  I  have 
.seen  the  loveliest  girl  of  my  experience." 

"  Delightful !    Am  I  to  see  her  also  ? " 


THE  ADVENT  OF  NANCY  AND  PETER  249 

"Undoubtedly!"  explained  Douglas.  "And  you'll  suc- 
cumb to  her  charms  just  as  I  did." 

"When  may  I  meet  her?"  asked  Leslie  eagerly. 

"I  can't  say;  but  soon  now." 

"All  right!"  agreed  the  girl.  "Be  ready  at  four  to- 
morrow." 

Leslie  sat  in  frowning  thought  a  moment,  before  the 
telephone;  then  her  ever-ready  laugh  bubbled.  "Why 
didn't  I  think  of  it  while  I  was  talking?"  she  wondered. 
"Of  course  Mickey  has  taken  him  to  visit  his  Lily.  I  must 
see  about  that  wrong  back  before  bone  and  muscle  harden." 

Then  she  began  her  task.  By  evening  she  had  a  gaso- 
line stove  set  up,  the  kitchen  provisioned,  her  father's 
room  ready  and  arrangements  sufficiently  completed  that 
she  sent  the  car  to  bring  him  to  his  dinner  of  cornbread  and 
bacon  under  an  apple  tree  scattering  pink  petals  beside  the 
kitchen  door,  with  every  lake  breeze.  Then  they  went 
fishing  and  landed  three  black  bass. 

Douglas  Bruce  did  not  mind  one  day  so  much,  but  he 
resented  two.  When  he  greeted  Mickey  that  morning 
it  was  not  with  the  usual  salutation  of  his  friends,  so  the 
boy  knew  there  was  something  not  exactly  right.  He 
was  not  feeling  precisely  jovial  himself.  He  was  under 
suspended  judgment.  He  knew  that  when  Mr.  Bruce 
had  time  to  think,  and  talk  over  the  situation  with  Miss 
Winton,  both  of  them  might  very  probably  agree  with  the 
woman  who  said  the  law  would  take  Lily  from  him  and 
send  her  to  a  charity  home  for  children. 

Mickey,  with  his  careful  drilling  on  the  subject,  was  in 
rebellion.  How  could  the  law  take  Lily  from  him?  Did 


250  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

the  law  know  anything  about  her?  Was  she  in  the  care 
of  the  law  when  he  found  her?  Wouldn't  the  law  have 
allowed  her  to  die  grovelling  in  filth  and  rags,  inside  a  few 
more  hours?  He  had  not  infringed  on  the  law  in  any 
way;  he  had  merely  saved  a  life  the  law  had  forgotten  to 
save.  Now  when  he  had  it  in  his  possession  and  in  far 
better  condition  than  he  found  it,  how  had  the  law  -power 
to  step  in  and  rob  him? 

Mickey  did  not  understand,  while  there  was  nothing  in 
his  heart  that  could  teach  him.  He  had  found  her:  he 
would  keep  her.  The  Orphans'  Home  should  not  have  her. 
The  law  should  not  have  her.  Only  one  possibility  had 
any  weight  with  Mickey:  if  some  one  like  Mr.  Bruce  or 
Miss  Winton  wanted  to  give  her  a  home  of  luxury,  could 
provide  care  at  once,  for  which  he  would  be  forced  to  wait 
years  to  earn  the  money;  if  they  wanted  her  and  the  Carrel 
man  of  many  miracles  would  come  for  them;  did  he  dare 
leave  her  lying  an  hour,  when  there  was  even  hope  she 
might  be  on  her  feet?  There  was  only  one  answer  to  that 
with  Mickey,  but  it  pained  his  heart.  So  his  greeting 
lacked  its  customary  spontaneity. 

By  noon  Bruce  was  irritable,  while  Mickey  was  as 
nearly  sullen  as  it  was  in  his  nature  to  be.  At  two  o'clock 
Bruce  surrendered,  summoned  the  car,  and  started  to  the 
golf  grounds.  He  had  played  three  holes  when  he  over- 
took a  man  who  said  a  word  that  arrested  his  attention,  so 
both  of  them  stopped,  and  with  notebooks  and  pencils, 
under  the  shade  of  a  big  tree  began  discussing  the  question 
that  meant  more  to  Douglas  than  anything  save  Leslie. 
He  dismissed  Mickey  for  the  afternoon,  promising  him 


THE  ADVENT  OF  NANCY  AND  PETER  251 

that  if  he  would  be  ready  by  six,  he  should  be  driven  back 
to  the  city. 

Mickey  wanted  to  be  alone  to  concentrate  on  nis  prob- 
lem, but  people  were  everywhere  and  more  coming  by  the 
carload.  He  could  see  no  place  that  was  then,  or  would 
be,  undisturbed.  The  long  road  with  grassy  sides  gave 
big  promises  of  leading  somewhere  to  the  quiet  retreat  he 
sought.  Telling  the  driver  that  if  he  were  not  back  by 
six,  he  would  be  waiting  down  the  road,  Mickey  started  on 
foot,  in  thought  so  deep  he  scarcely  appreciated  the 
grasses  he  trod,  the  perfume  in  his  nostrils,  the  concert  in 
his  ears.  What  did  at  last  arouse  him  was  the  fact  that  he 
was  very  thirsty.  That  made  him  realize  that  this  was  the 
warmest  day  of  the  season.  Instantly  his  mind  flew  to  the 
mite  of  a  girl,  lying  so  patiently,  watching  the  clock  for  his 
coming,  living  for  the  sound  of  his  feet. 

Mickey  stopped,  studying  the  landscape.  A  cool  gentle 
breeze  crossed  the  clover  field  beside  the  way,  refreshing 
him  in  its  passing  He  sucked  his  lungs  full,  then  lifted 
his  cap,  shaking  the  hair  from  his  forehead.  He  stuffed  the 
cap  into  his  pocket,  walking  slowly  along,  intending  to  stop 
at  the  nearest  farmhouse  to  ask  for  water.  But  the  first 
home  was  not  to  Mickey's  liking.  He  went  on,  passing  an- 
other and  another.  Then  he  came  to  land  that  attracted 
him.  The  fences  were  so  straight.  The  corners  so  clean 
where  they  were  empty,  so  delightful  where  they  were 
filled  with  alder,  wild  plum,  hawthorn;  attractive  locations 
for  birds  of  the  bushes  that  were  field  and  orchard  feeders. 
Then  the  barn  and  outbuildings  looked  so  neat  and  pros- 
perous; grazing  cattle  in  rank  meadows  were  so  sleek;  then 


MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

a  big  white  house  began  to  peep  from  the  screen  of  vines, 
bushes  and  trees. 

"Well  if  the  water  here  gives  you  fever,  it  will  any- 
where," said  Mickey,  and  turning  in  at  the  open  gate 
started  up  a  walk  having  flower  beds  on  each  side. 
There  was  a  wide  grassy  lawn  where  the  big  trees  scattered 
around  afforded  almost  complete  shade.  Mickey  never 
had  seen  a  home  like  it  closely.  He  scarcely  could  realize 
that  there  were  places  in  the  world  where  families  lived 
alone  like  this.  He  tried  to  think  how  he  would  feel  if  he 
belonged  there.  When  he  reached  the  place  where  he  saw 
Lily  on  a  comfort  under  a  big  bloom-laden  pear  tree,  his 
throat  grew  hard,  his  eyes  dry  and  his  feet  heavy.  Then 
the  screen  to  the  front  door  swung  back  as  a  smiling  woman 
in  a  tidy  gingham  dress  came  through  and  stood  awaiting 
Mickey. 

"I  just  told  Peter  when  he  came  back  alone,  I  bet  a 
penny  you'd  got  off  at  the  wrong  stop!"  she  cried.  "I'm 
so  glad  you  found  your  way  by  yourself.  But  you  must 
be  tired  and  hot  walking.  Come  right  in  and  have  a  glass 
of  milk,  then  strip  your  feet  and  I'll  ring  for  Junior." 

For  one  second  Mickey  was  dazed.  The  next,  he  knew 
what  it  must  mean.  These  people  were  the  kind  whom 
God  had  made  so  big  and  generous  they  divided  home  and 
summer  with  tenement  children  from  the  big  city  thirty 
miles  away.  Some  boy  was  coming  for  a  week,  maybe, 
into  what  exactly  filled  Mickey's  idea  of  Heaven,  but  he 
was  not  the  boy. 

"Most  breaks  my  heart  to  tell  you,"  he  said,  "but  I 
ain't  the  boy  you're  expecting.     I'm  just  taking  a  walk 


253 

and  I  thought  maybe  you'd  let  me  have  a  drink.  I've 
wanted  one  past  the  last  three  houses,  but  none  looked  as 
if  they'd  have  half  such  good,  cool  water  as  this." 

"Now  don't  that  beat  the  nation!"  exclaimed  the 
woman.  "The  Multiopolis  papers  are  just  oozing  sym- 
pathy for  the  poor  city  children  who  are  wild  for  woods  and 
water;  and  when  I'd  got  myself  nerved  up  to  try  one  and 
thought  it  over  till  I  was  really  anxious  about  it,  and  got  my 
children  all  worked  up  too,  here  for  the  second  time  Peter 
knocks  off  plowing  and  goes  to  the  trolley  to  meet  one,  and 
he  doesn't  come.  I've  got  a  notion  to  write  the  editor  of 
the  Herald  and  tell  him  my  experience.  I  think  it's  funny! 
But  you  wanted  water,  come  this  way." 

Mickey  followed  a  footpath  white  with  pear  petals 
around  the  big  house  and  standing  beside  a  pump  waited 
while  the  woman  stepped  to  the  back  porch  for  a  cup.  He 
took  it,  drinking  slowly. 

"Thank  you  ma'am,"  he  said  as  he  handed  it  back,  turn- 
ing to  the  path. 

Yesterday  had  weakened  his  nerve.  He  was  going  to 
cry  again.  He  took  a  quick  step  forward,  but  the  woman 
was  beside  him,  her  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"Wait  a  minute,"  she  said.  "Sit  on  this  bench  under 
the  pear  tree.  I  want  to  ask  you  something.  Excuse  me 
and  rest  until  I  come  back." 

Mickey  leaned  against  the  tree,  shutting  his  eyes,  fight- 
ing with  all  his  might.  He  was  too  big  to  cry.  The  wo- 
man would  think  him  a  coward  as  Mr.  Bruce  had.  Then 
things  happened  as  they  actually  do  at  times.  The 
woman  hurriedly  came  from  the  door,  sat  on  the  bench 


254  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

beside  him,  and  said:  "I  went  in  there  to  watch  you 
through  the  window,  but  I  can't  stand  this  a  second  longer. 
You  poor  child  you,  now  tell  me  right  straight  what's  the 
matter!" 

Mickey  tried  but  no  sound  came.  The  woman  patted 
his  shoulder.  "Now  doesn't  it  beat  the  band?"  she  said, 
to  the  backyard  in  general.  "Just  a  little  fellow  not  in 
long  trousers  yet,  and  bearing  such  a  burden  he  can't  talk. 
I  guess  maybe  God  has  a  hand  in  this.  I'm  not  so  sure  my 
boy  hasn't  come  after  all.  Who  are  you,  and  where  are 
you  going  ?  Don't  you  want  to  send  your  ma  word  you  will 
stay  here  a  week  with  me?" 

Mickey  lifted  a  bewildered  face. 

"Why,  I  couldn't,  lady,"  he  said  brokenly,  but  gaining 
control  as  he  went  on.  "I  must  work.  Mr.  Bruce  needs 
me.  I'm  a  regular  plute  compared  with  most  of  the 
'newsies';  you  wouldn't  want  to  do  anything  for  me  who 
has  so  much;  but  if  you're  honestly  thinking  about  taking  a 
boy  and  he  hasn't  come,  how  would  you  like  to  have  a  little 
girl  in  his  place?  A  little  girl  about  so  long,  and  so  wide, 
with  a  face  like  Easter  church  flowers,  and  rings  of  gold  on 
her  head,  and  who  wouldn't  be  half  the  trouble  a  boy  would, 
because  she  hasn't  ever  walked,  so  she  couldn't  get  into 
things." 

"Oh  my  goodness!     A  crippled  little  girl?" 

"She  isn't  crippled,"  said  Mickey.  "She's  as  straight 
as  you  are,  what  there  is  of  her.  She  had  so  little  food, 
and  care,  her  back  didn't  seem  to  stiffen,  so  her  legs  won't 
walk.  She  wouldn't  be  half  so  much  trouble  as  a  boy. 
Honest,  dearest  lady,  she  wouldn't!" 


THE  ADVENT  OF  NANCY  AND  PETER  255 

"Who  are  you?"  asked  the  woman. 

Mickey  produced  a  satisfactory  pedigree,  and  gave 
unquestionable  references  which  she  recognized,  for  she 
slowly  nodded  at  the  names  of  Chaffner  and  Bruce. 

"And  who  is  the  little  girl  you  are  asking  me  to  take?" 

Mickey  studied  the  woman  and  then  began  to  talk, 
cautiously  at  first.  Ashamed  to  admit  the  squalor  and  the 
awful  truth  of  how  he  had  found  the  thing  he  loved,  then 
gathering  courage  he  began  what  ended  in  an  outpouring. 
The  woman  watched  him,  listening,  and  when  Mickey  had 
no  further  word:  "She  is  only  a  tiny  girl?"  she  asked 
wonderingly. 

"The  littlest  girl  you  ever  saw,"  said  Mickey. 

"Perfectly  helpless?"  marvelled  the  woman. 

"Oh  no!  She  can  sit  up  and  use  her  hands,"  said 
Mickey.  "She  can  feed  herself,  write  on  her  slate,  and 
learn  her  lessons.  It's  only  that  she  stays  put.  She  has 
to  be  lifted  if  she's  moved." 

"You  lift  her?"  queried  the  woman. 

"Could  with  one  hand,"  said  Mickey  tersely. 

"You  say  this  young  lawyer  you  work  for,  whose  name 
I  see  in  the  Herald  connected  with  the  investigation  going 
on,  is  at  the  club  house  now?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,"  answered  Mickey. 

"He's  coming  past  here  this  evening?"  she  pursued. 

Mickey  explained. 

"About  how  much  waiting  on  would  your  little  girl 
take?"  she  asked  next. 

"Well  just  at  present,  she  does  the  waiting  on  me,"  said 
Mickey.  "You  see,  dearest  lady,  I  have  to  get  her  washed 


256  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

and  fix  her  bieakfast  and  her  lunch  beside  the  bed,  and 
be  downtown  by  seven  o'clock,  and  I  don't  get  back 
'til  six.  Then  I  wash  her  again  to  freshen  her  up  and  cook 
her  supper.  Then  she  says  her  lesson,  her  prayers  and  goes 
to  sleep.  So  you  see  it's  mostly  her  waiting  on  me.  A  boy 
couldn't  be  less  trouble  than  that,  could  he?" 

"It  doesn't  seem  like  it,"  said  the  woman,  "and  no  mat- 
ter how  much  bother  she  was,  I  guess  I  could  stand  it  for  a 
•week,  if  she's  such  a  little  girl,  and  can't  walk.  The  diffi- 
culty is  this:  I  promised  my  son  Junior  a  boy  and  his  heart 
is  so  set.  He's  wild  about  the  city.  He's  going  to  be  gone 
before  we  know  it.  He  doesn't  seem  to  care  for  anything 
we  have,  or  do.  I  don't  know  just  what  he  hoped  to  get  out 
of  a  city  boy;  but  I  promised  him  one.  Then  I  felt  scared 
and  wrote  Mr.  Chaffner  how  it  was  and  asked  him  to  send 
me  a  real  nice  boy  who  could  be  trusted.  If  it  were 
not  for  Junior — Mary  and  the  Little  Man  would  be 
delighted." 

"Well  never  mind,"  said  Mickey.  "I'll  go  see  the  Nurse 
I>ady  and  maybe  she  can  think  of  a  plan.  Anyway  I  don't 
know  as  it  would  be  best  for  Lily.  If  she  came  here  a 
week,  seems  like  it  would  kill  me  to  take  her  back,  and  I 
don't  know  how  she'd  bear  staying  alone  all  day,  after  she 
had  got  used  to  company.  And  pretty  soon  now  it's  going 
to  get  so  hot,  top  floors  in  the  city,  that  if  she  had  a  week 
like  this,  going  back  would  make  her  sick." 

"You  must  g:ve  me  time  to  think,"  said  the  woman. 
"  Peter  will  soon  be  home  to  supper.  I'll  talk  it  over  with 
him  and  with  Junior  and  see  what  they  think.  Where 
•could  you  be  found  in  Multiopolis  ?  We  drive  in  every  few 


THE  ADVENT  OF  NANCY  AND  PETER  257 

days.  We  like  to  go  ourselves,  and  there's  no  other  way  ts> 
satisfy  the  children.  They  get  so  tired  and  lonesome  ia 
the  country." 

Mickey  was  aghast.  "They  do  ?  Why  it  doesn't  seem. 
possible !  I  wish  I  could  trade  jobs  with  Junior  for  a  while. 
What  is  his  work?" 

"He  drives  the  creamery  wagon,"  answered  the  womaru 

"O  Lord!"  Mickey  burst  forth.  "Excuse  me  ma'am,  I 

mean Oh  my!  Drives  a  real  live  horse  along  these 

streets  and  gathers  up  the  cream  cans  we  pass  at  the  gates* 
and  takes  them  to  the  trolley?" 

"  Yes,"  she  said. 

"And  he'd  give  up  that  job  for  blacking  somebody's 
shoes,  or  carrying  papers,  or  running  errands,  or  being  shut 
up  all  summer  in  a  big  hot  building!  Oh  my!" 

"When  will  you  be  our  way  again?"  asked  the  woman. 
"I'll  talk  this  over  with  Peter.  If  we  decided  to  try  the 
little  girl  and  she  did  the  'waiting'  as  you  say,  she  couldn't 
be  much  trouble.  I  should  think  we  could  manage  her, 
and  a  boy  too.  I  wish  you  could  be  the  boy.  I'd  Eke 
to  have  you.  I've  been  thinking  if  we  could  get  a  boy  to- 
show  Junior  what  it  is  he  wants  to  know  about  a  city,  heM 
be  better  satisfied  at  home,  but  I  don't  know.  It's  just 
possible  it  might  make  him  worse.  Now  such  an  under- 
standing boy  as  you  seem  to  be,  maybe  you  could  teach 
Junior  things  about  the  city  that  would  make  him  con- 
tented at  home.  Do  you  think  you  could  ? " 

"Dearest  lady,  I  get  you,"  said  Mickey.  "Do  / 
think  I  could  ?  Well  if  you  really  wished  me  to,  I  could 
take  your  Junior  to  Multiopolis  with  me  for  a  week  and 


258  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

make  him  so  sick  he'd  never  want  to  see  a  city  again 
while  his  palpitator  was  running." 

"Hu'umh!"  said  the  lady  slowly,  her  eyes  on  far  dis- 
tance. "Let  me  think!  I  don't  know  but  that  would  be 
a  fine  thing  for  all  of  us.  We  have  land  enough  for  a  nice 
farm  for  both  boys,  and  the  way  things  look  now,  land 
seems  about  as  sure  as  anything;  we  could  give  them  a 
farm  apiece  when  we  are  done  with  it,  and  the  girl  the 
money  to  take  to  her  home  when  she  marries — I  would 
love  to  know  that  Junior  was  going  to  live  on  land  as  his 
father  does;  but  all  his  life  he's  talked  about  working  in 
the  city  when  he  grows  up.  Hu'umh ! " 

"Well  if  you  want  him  cured  of  that,  gimme  the 
job,"  he  grinned.  "You  see  lady,  I  know  the  city,  inside 
out  and  outside  in  again.  I  been  playing  the  game  with 
it  since  I  can  remember.  You  can't  tell  me  anything  I 
don't  know  about  the  lowest,  poorest  side  of  it.  Oh  I 
could  tell  you  things  that  would  make  your  head  swim. 
If  you  want  your  boy  dosed  just  sick  as  a  horse  on  what 
a  workingman  gets  in  Multiopolis  'tween  Sunrise  Alley 
and  Biddle  Boulevard,  just  you  turn  him  over  tome  a  week. 
I'll  fix  him.  I'll  make  the  creamery  job  look  like  'Lijah 
charioteering  for  the  angels  to  him,  honest  I  will  lady;  and 
he  won't  ever  know  it,  either.  He'll  come  through  with  a 
lump  in  his  neck,  and  a  twist  in  his  stummick  that  means 
home  and  mother.  See?" 

The  woman  looked  at  Mickey  in  wide-eyed  and  open- 
mouthed  amazement:  "Well  if  I  ever!"  she  gasped. 

"If  you  don't  believe  me,  try  it,"  said  Mickey. 

"Well!     Well!     I'll  have  to  think,"  she  said.     "I  don't 


THE  ADVENT  OF  NANCY  AND  PETER  259 

know  but  it  would  be  a  good  thing  if  it  could  be 
done." 

"Well  don't  you  have  any  misgivings  about  it  being 
done,"  said  Mickey.  "It's  being  done  every  day.  I 
know  men,  hundreds  of  them,  just  scraping,  and  slaving 
and  half  starving  to  get  together  the  dough  to  pull  out~ 
I  hear  it  on  the  cars,  on  the  streets,  and  see  it  in  the  papers. 
They're  jumping  their  jobs  and  going  every  day,  while 
hundreds  of  Schmeltzenschimmers,  O'Laughertys,  Han- 
sons, and  Pietros  are  coming  in  to  take  their  places. 
Multiopolis  is  more  than  half  filled  with  crowd-outs  from 
across  the  ocean  now,  instead  of  home  folks'  cradles,  as  it 
should  be.  If  Junior  has  got  a  hankering  for  Multiopolis 
that  is  going  to  cut  him  out  of  owning  a  place  like  this,  and 
bossing  his  own  job,  dearest  lady,  cook  him!  Cook  him 
quick!" 

"Would  you  come  here?"  she  questioned. 

"Would  I ?"  cried  Mickey.     "Well  try  me  and  see!" 

"I'm  deeply  interested  in  what  you  say  about  Junior," 
she  said.  "I'll  talk  it  over  to-night  with  Peter/* 

"Well  I  don't  know,"  said  Mickey.  "He  might  put 
the  grand  kibosh  on  it.  Hard!  But  if  Junior  came  back 
asking  polite  for  his  mush  and  milk,  and  offering  his 
Christmas  pennies  for  the  privilege  of  plowing,  or  driv- 
ing the  cream  wagon,  believe  me  dear  lady,  then  Peter 
would  fall  on  your  neck  and  weep  for  joy." 

"Yes,  in  that  event,  he  would,"  said  the  lady,  "and  the 
temptation  is  so  great,  that  I  believe  if  you'll  give  me  your 
address,  I'll  look  you  up  the  next  time  I  come  to  Multi— 
opolis,  which  will  be  soon.  I'd  like  to  see  your  Lily  be- 


*66  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

fore  I  make  any  promises.  If  I  thought  I  could  manage, 
I  could  bring  her  right  out  in  the  car.  Tell  me  where  to 
find  you,  and  I'll  see  what  Peter  thinks." 

Mickey  grinned  widely.  "You  ain't  no  suffragette 
lady,  are  you?"  he  commented. 

"Well  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  the  lady.  "There 
arc  a  good  many  things  to  think  of  these  days." 

"Yes  I  know,"  said  Mickey,  "but  as  long  as  everything 
you  say  swings  the  circle  and  rounds  up  with  Peter,  it's 
no  job  to  guess  what's  most  important  in  your  think- 
tank.  Peter  must  be  some  pumpkins!" 

"Come  to  think  of  it,  he  is,  Mickey,"  she  said.  "Come 
to  think  of  it,  I  do  sort  of  revolve  around  Peter.  We  al- 
ways plan  together.  Not  that  we  always  think  alike: 
there  are  some  things  I  just  cant  make  Peter  see,  that  I 
wish  I  could;  but  I  wouldn't  trade  Peter 

"No  I  guess  he's  top  crust,"  laughed  Mickey. 

"He  is  so!"  said  the  woman.  "How  did  you  say  I 
could  reach  you  ? " 

"Well,  the  easiest  way  would  be  this.  Here,  I'll  write 
the  number  for  you." 

"Fine!"  said  the  woman.  "I'll  hurry  through  my 
shopping  and  call  you — when  would  it  suit  you  best?" 

"Never  mind  me,"  said  Mickey.  "For  this,  I'll  come 
when  you  say." 

"What  about  three  in  the  afternoon,  then?" 

"Sure!"  cried  Mickey.  "Suits  me  splendid!  Mostly 
quit  for  the  day  then.  But  ma'am,  I  don't  know  about 
this.  Lily  isn't  used  to  anybody  but  me,  she  may  be 
afraid  to  come  with  you." 


THE  ADVENT  OF  NANCY  AND  PETER  26r 

"And  I  may  think  I  would  scarcely  want  to  try  to  take 
care  of  her  for  a  week,  when  I  see  her,"  said  the  woman. 

"You  may  think  that  now,  but  you'll  change  your  mind 
when  you  see  her,"  said  Mickey.  "Dearest  lady,  when 
you  see  a  little  white  girl  that  hasn't  ever  walked,  smiling 
up  at  you  shy  and  timid,  you  won't  be  any  more  anxious 
for  Orphings'  Homes  and  Charity  Palaces  to  swallow  her 
up  than  I  am;  not  a  bit!  All  I  must  think  of  is  what  Lily 
will  say  about  coming.  She's  never  been  out  of  my  room 
since  I  found  her,  and  she  hasn't  seen  any  one  but  Mr. 
Bruce,  so  she'll  be  afraid,  and  worried.  Seeing  her  is  all  I 
ask  of  you!  What  I'm  up  against  is  what  she's  going  to 
say;  and  how  I'm  going  to  take  her  back  after  a  week  here, 
when  it  will  be  hotter  there  and  lonesomer  than  ever." 

"You  surely  give  one  things  to  think  about,"  com- 
mented the  woman. 

"Do  I?"  queried  Mickey.  "Well  I  don't  know  as  I 
should.  Probably  with  Peter,  and  three  children  of  your 
own,  and  this  farm  to  run,  you  are  busy  enough  without 
spending  any  of  your  time  on  me." 

"The  command  in  the  good  book  is  plain:  'Bear  ye  one 
another's  burdens,'"  quoted  the  woman. 

"Oh  yes!  'Burdens,'  of  course!"  agreed  Mickey. 
"But  that  couldn't  mean  Lily,  'cause  she's  nothing  but 
joy!  Just  pure  joy!  All  about  her  is  that  a  fellow  loves 
her  so,  that  it  keeps  him  laying  awake  at  nights  thinking 
how  to  do  what  would  be  best  for  her.  She's  mine,  and  I'm 
going  to  keep  her;  that's  the  surest  thing  you  know.  If  I 
take  you  to  see  Lily,  and  if  I  decide  to  let  you  have  her  a 
few  days  to  rest  her  and  fresh  her  up,  you  wouldn't  go  and 


262  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

•want  to  put  her  'mong  the  Orphings'  Home  kids,  would 
you?  You  wouldn't  think  she  ought  to  be  took  from  me 
and  raised  in  a  flock  of  every  kind,  from  every  place. 
Would  you  lady?" 

"No,  I  wouldn't,"  said  the  lady.  "I  see  how  you  feel, 
and  I  am  sure  I  wouldn't  want  that  for  one  of  mine." 

"Well,  there's  no  question  about  her  being  mine!" 
said  Mickey.  "But  I  like  you  so,  maybe  I'll  let  you  help 
me  a  little.  A  big  boy  that  can  run  and  play  doesn't  need 
you,  dearest  lady,  half  so  much  as  my  little  girl.  Do  you 
think  he  does?" 

"No,  I  think  the  Lord  sent  you  straight  here.  If  you 
don't  stop  I'll  be  so  worked  up  I  can't  rest.  I  may  come 
to-morrow." 

Mickey  arose,  holding  out  his  hand. 

"Thank  you  dearest  lady,"  he  said.  "I  must  be  get- 
ting out  where  the  car  won't  pass  without  my  seeing 
it." 

"You  wait  at  the  gate  a  minute,"  she  said,  "I  want  to 
send  in  a  little  basket  of  things  to-night.  I'll  have  it 
ready  in  a  jiffy." 

Mickey  slowly  walked  to  the  gate.  When  the  woman 
came  with  a  basket  covered  with  a  white  cloth,  he  thanked 
her  again;  as  he  took  it  he  rested  his  head  against  her  arm, 
smiling  up  at  her  with  his  wide  true  eyes. 

"A  thing  I  can't  understand  is,"  he  said,  "why  when  the 
Lord  was  making  mothers,  he  didn't  cut  all  of  them  from 
the  same  piece  he  did  you.  I'll  just  walk  on  down  the 
road  and  smell  June  beside  this  clover  field.  Is  it  yours? " 

"Yes,"  she  said. 


"Mickey  had  the  best  of  three  or  four  boys  concealed 
in  his  lean  person." 


THE  ADVENT  OF  NANCY  AND  PETER   263 

"Would  you  care  if  I'd  take  just  a  few  to  Lily?  1  know 
she  never  saw  any." 

"Take  a  bunch  as  big  as  your  head  if  you  want  them." 

"Lily  is  so  little,  three  will  do  her  just  as  well;  besides, 
she's  got  to  remember  how  we  are  fixed,  so  she  needn't 
begin  to  expect  things  to  come  her  way  by  baskets  and 
bunches,"  said  Mickey.  "She's  bound  to  be  spoiled  bad 
enough  as  it  is.  I  can't  see  how  I'm  going  to  come  out 
with  her,  but  she's  mine,  and  I'm  going  to  keep  her." 

"Mickey,"  laughed  the  woman,  "don't  you  think  you 
swing  around  to  Lily  just  about  the  way  I  do  to  Peter?" 

"Well  maybe  I  do,"  conceded  Mickey. 

"What  kind  of  a  car  did  you  say  Mr.  Bruce  has?" 

"Oh  the  car  is  dark  green,  and  the  driver  has  sandy  hair; 
and  Mr.  Bruce — why  you'd  know  him  anywhere!  Just 
look  for  the  finest  man  you  ever  saw,  if  you  are  out  when 
he  goes  by,  and  that  will  be  Mr.  Douglas  Bruce." 

"I  guess  I'll  know  him  if  I  happen  to  be  out." 

"Sure  lady,  you  couldn't  miss  him,"  replied  Mickey. 

Carefully  holding  his  basket  he  went  down  the  road. 
The  woman  made  supper  an  hour  late  standing  beside  the 
gate  watching  for  a  green  car.  Many  whirled  past,  then 
at  last  one  with  the  right  look  came  gliding  along;  so  she 
stepped  out  and  raised  her  hand  for  a  parley.  The  car 
stopped. 

"Mr.  Douglas  Bruce?"  she  asked. 

"At  your  service,  Madam!"  he  answered. 

"Just  a  word  with  you,"  she  said. 

He  arose  instantly,  swung  open  the  car  door,  and  step- 
ping down  walked  with  her  to  the  shade  of  a  big  widely 


264  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

branching  maple.  The  woman  looked  at  him,  and  said 
flushing  and  half  confused:  "Please  to  excuse  me  for  halt- 
ing you,  but  I  had  a  reason.  This  afternoon  such  an 
attractive  little  fellow  stopped  here  to  ask  for  a  drink  in 
passing.  Now  Peter  and  I  had  decided  we'd  try  our  hand 
at  taking  a  city  boy  for  a  week  or  so  for  his  vacation,  and 
twice  Peter  has  left  his  work  and  gone  to  the  trolley  station 
to  fetch  him,  and  he  failed  us.  I  supposed  Peter  had 
missed  him,  so  when  I  saw  the  boy  coming,  just  the  first 
glimpse  my  heart  went  right  out  to  him " 

"Very  likely "  assented  Mr.  Bruce. 

"He  surely  is  the  most  winning  little  chap  I  ever  saw 
with  his  keen  blue  eyes  and  that  sort  of  light  on  his  fore- 
head," said  the  woman. 

"I've  noticed  that,"  put  in  the  man. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "anybody  would  see  that  almost  the 
first  thing.  So  I  thought  he  was  the  boy  I  was  to  mother 
coming,  and  I  went  right  at  the  job.  He  told  me  quick 
enough  that  I  was  mistaken,  but  I  could  see  he  was  in 
trouble.  Someway  I'd  trust  him  with  my  character  or  my 
money,  but  I  got  to  be  perfectly  sure  before  I  trust  him 
with  my  children.  ;:You  see  I  have  three,  and  if  ever  any 
of  them  go  wrong,  I  don't  want  it  to  be  because  I  was  care- 
less. I  thought  I'd  like  to*  have  him  around  some;  my 
oldest  boy  is  bigger,  but  just  about  his  age.  He  said  he 
might  be  out  this  way  with  you  this  summer  and  I  wanted 
to  ask  him  in,  and  do  what  I  could  to  entertain  him;  but 
first  I  just  wanted  to  inquire  of  you " 

"  I  see ! "  said  Douglas  Bruce.  "  I  haven't  known  Mickey 
so  long,  but  owing  to  the  circumstances  in  which  I  met 


him,  and  the  association  with  him  since,  I  feel  that  I  know 
him  better  than  I  could  most  boys  in  a  longer  time.  The 
strongest  thing  I  can  say  to  you  is  this:  had  I  a  boy  of  my 
own,  I  should  be  proud  if  Mickey  liked  him  and  would  con- 
sider being  friends  with  him.  He  is  absolutely  trust- 
worthy, that  I  know." 

"Then  I  won't  detain  you  further,"  she  said. 

Mickey,  cheered  in  mind  and  heart,  had  walked  ahead 
briskly  with  his  basket,  while  as  he  went  he  formulated  his 
plans.  He  would  go  straight  to  the  Sunshine  Nurse,  tell 
her  about  the  heat  and  this  possible  chance  to  take  Lily  to 
the  country  for  a  week,  and  consult  with  her  as  to  what  the 
effect  of  the  trip  might  be,  and  what  he  could  do  with  her 
afterward,  then  he  would  understand  better.  He  kept 
watching  the  clover  field  beside  the  way.  When  he  de- 
cided he  had  reached  the  finest,  best  perfumed  place,  he 
saw  a  man  plowing  on  the  other  side  of  the  fence  and 
thought  it  might  be  Peter  and  that  Peter  would  wonder 
what  he  was  doing  in  his  field,  so  Mickey  set  the  basket  in 
a  corner  and  advanced. 

He  was  wonderfully  elated  by  what  had  happened  to 
him  and  the  conclusions  at  which  he  had  arrived,  as  he 
came  across  the  deep  grasses  beside  the  fence  where  the 
pink  of  wild  rose  and  the  snow  of  alder  commingled,  where 
song  sparrows  trilled,  and  larks  and  quail  were  calling.  He 
approached  smiling  in  utter  confidence.  As  he  looked  at 
the  man,  at  his  height,  his  strong  open  face,  his  grip  on  the 
plow,  he  realized  why  the  world  of  the  little  woman  re- 
volved around  Peter.  Mickey  could  have  conceived  of 
few  happier  fates  than  being  attached  to  Peter,  so  ha 


266  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

thought  in  amazement  of  the  boy  who  wanted  to  leave  him. 
Then  a  slow  grin  spread  over  his  face,  for  by  this  time 
Peter  had  stopped  his  horses  and  was  awaiting  him  with  an 
answering  smile  and  hand  outstretched. 

"Why  son,  I'm  glad  to  see  you!"  he  cried.  "How  did 
I  come  to  miss  you?  Did  you  get  off  at  the  wrong 
stop?" 

Mickey  shook  his  head  as  he  took  the  proffered  hand. 

"You  are  Peter?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  I'm  Peter,"  confirmed  the  man. 

"Well  you're  making  the  same  mistake  your  pleasant 
lady  did,"  explained  Mickey.  "She  thought  I  was  the 
boy  who  had  been  sent  to  visit  you,  so  she  gave  me  the 
glad  hand  too.  I  wish  I  was  in  his  shoes!  But  I'm  not 
your  boy.  Gee,  your  lady  is  a  nice  gentle  lady." 

"You're  all  correct  there,"  agreed  Peter.  "And  so  you 
are  not  the  boy  who  was  to  be  sent  us.  Pshaw  now!  I 
wish  you  were.  I'm  disappointed.  I've  been  watching 
you  coming  down  the  road,  and  the  way  you  held  together 
and  stepped  up  so  brisk  and  neat  took  my  eye." 

"I  been  'stepping  up  brisk  and  neat'  to  sell  papers,  run 
errands,  hop  cars,  dodge  cars  and  automobiles,  and  climb- 
ing fire-escapes  instead  of  stairs,  and  keeping  from  under 
foot  since  I  can  remember,"  laughed  Mickey.  "  You  learn 
on  the  streets  of  Multiopolis  to  step  up,  and  watch  sharp 
without  knowing  you  are  doing  it." 

"You're  a  newsboy?"  asked  Peter. 

"I  was  all  my  life  'til  a  few  days  ago,"  said  Mickey. 
"Then  I  went  into  the  office  of  Mr.  Douglas  Bruce.  He's 
a  corporation  lawyer  in  the  Iriquois  Building." 


THE  ADVENT  OF  NANCY  AND  PETER  267 

"Hum,  IVe  been  reading  about  him,"  said  Peter.  "If 
I  ever  have  a  case,  I'm  going  to  take  it  to  him." 

"Well  you'll  have  a  man  that  will  hang  on  and  dig  in  and 
sweat  for  you,"  said  Mickey.  "Just  now  he's  after  some 
of  them  big  office-holders  who  are  bleeding  the  taxpayers 
of  Multiopolis.  Some  of  these  days  if  you  watch  your 
Herald  sharp,  you're  going  to  see  the  lid  fly  off  of  two  or 
three  things  at  once.  He's  on  a  hot  trail  now." 

"Why  I  have  seen  that  in  the  papers,"  said  Peter.  "He 
was  given  the  job  of  finding  who  is  robbing  the  city,  by 
James  Minturn;  I  remember  his  name.  And  you  work  for 
him?  Well,  well!  Sit  down  here  and  tell  me  about  it." 

"I  can't  now,"  said  Mickey.  "I  must  get  back  to  the 
road.  His  car  may  pass  any  minute,  and  Fm  to  be  ready. 
Your  pleasant  lady  said  I  might  take  a  few  clover  flowers 
to  my  little  sick  girl,  and  just  as  I  came  to  the  finest  ones  in 
the  field,  I  saw  you  so  I  thought  maybe  Fd  better  tell  you 
what  I  was  doing  before  you  fired  me." 

"Take  all  you  want,"  said  Peter.  "Fd  like  to  send  the 
whole  field,  larks  and  all,  to  a  little  sick  girl.  I'd  like 
especial  to  send  her  some  of  these  clowny  bobolink  fellows 
to  puff  up  and  spill  music  by  the  quart  for  her;  I  guess 
nothing  else  runs  so  smooth  except  water." 

"I  don't  know  what  she'd  say,"  said  Mickey  gazing 
around  him.  "You  see  she  hasn't  ever  walked,  so  all  she's 
seen  in  her  life  has  been  the  worst  kind  of  bare,  dark  tene- 
ment walls,  'til  lately  she's  got  a  high  window  where  she 
can  see  sky,  and  a  few  sparrows  that  come  for  crumbs. 
This!" — Mickey  swept  his  arm  toward  the  landscape — "J 
don't  know  what  she'd  say  to  this!" 


268  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Pshaw,  now!"  cried  Peter.  "Why  bring  her  out! 
You  bring  her  right  out!  That's  what  we  been  wanting 
to  know.  Just  what  a  city  child  would  think  of  country 
things  she'd  never  seen  before.  Bring  her  to  see  us!" 

"She's  a  little  bit  of  a  thing  and  she  can't  walk,  you 
know,"  explained  Mickey. 

"Poor  little  mite!  That's  too  bad,"  lamented  Peter. 
"Wonder  if  she  couldn't  be  doctored  up.  It's  a  shame  she 
can't  walk,  but  taking  care  of  her  must  be  easy!" 

"Oh  she  takes  care  of  herself,"  said  Mickey.  "You  see 
she  is  alone  all  day  from  six  'til  six;  she  must  take  care  of 
herself,  so  she  studies  her  lesson,  and  plays  with  her  doll — 
I  mean  her  Precious  Child." 

"Too  bad!"  said  Peter.  "By  jacks  that's  a  sin!  Did 
you  happen  to  speak  to  Ma  about  her?" 

"We  did  talk  a  little,"  admitted  Mickey.  "She  was 
telling  me  of  the  visitor  boy  who  didn't  come,  and  your  son 
who  doesn't  think  he'll  want  to  stay;  so  we  got  to  talking. 
She  said  just  what  you  did  about  wanting  to  see  how  a  city 
child  who  hadn't  ever  seen  a  chicken,  or  a  cow,  or  horse 
would  act " 

"Good  Lord!"  cried  Peter.  "Is  there  a  child  in  Mul- 
tiopolis  who  hasn't  ever  seen  a  little  chicken,  or  a  calf?" 

"Hundreds  of  them!"  said  Mickey.  "I've  scarcely 
seen  a  cow  myself.  I've  seen  hens  and  little  chickens  in 
shop  windows  at  Easter  time " 

"But  not  in  the  orchard  in  June?"  queried  Peter. 

'No,  'not  in  the  orchard  in  June!'"  said  Mickey. 

"Well,  well!"  marvelled  Peter.  "There's  nothing  so 
true  as  that  'one  half  doesn't  know  how  the  other  half 


THE  ADVENT  OF  NANCY  AND  PETER  269 

lives/  I've  heard  that,  but  I  didn't  quite  sense  it,  and  I 
don't  know  as  I  do  yet.  You  bring  her  right  out!" 

"Yor.r  pleasant  lady  talked  about  that;  but  you  see 
bringing  her  out  and  showing  her  these  things,  and  getting 
her  used  to  them  is  one  thing;  then  taking  her  back  to  a 
room  so  hot  I  always  sleep  on  the  fire-escape,  and  where  she 
has  to  stay  all  day  alone,  is  another.  I  don't  know  but  so 
long  as  she  must  go  back  to  what  she  has  now,  it  would  be 
better  to  leave  her  there." 

"Humph!  I  see!  What  a  pity!"  exclaimed  Peter. 
"Well,  if  you'll  be  coming  this  way  again,  stop  and  see  us. 
I'll  talk  to  Ma  about  her.  We  often  take  a  little  run  to 
Multiopolis.  Junior  wouldn't  be  satisfied  till  we  got  a  car, 
and  I  can't  say  we  ain't  enjoying  it  ourselves.  What  was 
that  you  were  saying  about  my  boy  not  thinking  he'll 
stay?" 

"She  told  me,"  said  Mickey,  "about  the  city  bug  he  had 
in  his  system.  Why  don't  you  swat  it  immediate?" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  inquired  Peter. 

"Turn  him  over  to  me  a  week  or  two,"  suggested 
Mickey.  "I  can  give  him  a  dose  of  working  in  a  city  that 
will  send  him  hiking  back  to  home  and  father." 

"It's  worth  considering,"  said  Peter. 

"I  know  that  what  I  got  of  Multiopolis  would  make  me 
feel  like  von  Hindenberg  if  I  had  the  job  of  handling  the 
ribbons  of  your  creamery  wagon;  and  so  I  know  about 
what  would  put  sonny  back  on  the  farm,  tickled  'most  to 
death  to  be  here." 

"By  gum!  Well,  I'll  give  you  just  one  hundred  dollars 
if  you'll  do  it!"  exclaimed  Peter.  "You  see  my  grand- 


279  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

father  and  father  owned  this  land  before  me.  We've  been 
on  the  plowing  job  so  long  we  have  it  reduced  to  a  system, 
so  it  comes  easy  for  me,  and  I  take  pride  and  pleasure  in  it; 
I  had  supposed  my  boys  would  be  the  same.  Do  you 
really  think  you  could  manage  it?" 

"Sure,"  said  Mickey.  "Only,  if  you  really  mean  it,  not 
now,  nor  ever,  do  you  want  son  to  know  it.  See!  The 
medicine  wouldn't  work,  if  he  knew  he  took  it." 

"Well  I'll  be  jiggered!"  laughed  Peter.  "I  guess  you 
could  do  it,  if  you  went  at  it  right." 

"Well  you  trust  me  to  do  it  right,"  grinned  Mickey. 
"Loan  me  sonny  for  a  week  or  two,  and  you  can  have  him 
back  for  keeps." 

"Well  it's  worth  trying,"  said  Peter.  "Say,  when  will 
you  be  this  way  again?" 

"'Most  any  day,"  said  Mickey.  "And  your  lady  said 
she'd  be  in  Multiopolis  soon,  so  we  are  sure  to  have  a 
happy  meeting  before  long.  I  think  that  is  Mr.  Bruce's 
car  coming.  Good-bye!  Be  good  to  yourself !" 

With  a  spring  from  where  he  was  standing  Mickey  arose 
in  air,  alighted  on  the  top  rail  of  the  division  fence,  then 
balancing,  he  raced  down  it  toward  the  road.  Peter 
watched  him  in  astonishment,  then  went  back  to  his  plow- 
ing with  many  new  things  on  his  mind.  Thus  it  happened 
that  after  supper,  when  the  children  were  in  bed,  and  he 
and  his  wife  went  to  the  front  veranda  for  their  usual 
evening  visit,  and  talk  over  the  day,  she  had  very  little  to 
tell  him. 

As  was  her  custom,  she  removed  her  apron,  brushed  her 
waving  hair  and  wore  a  fresh  dress.  She  rocked  gently  in 


THE  ADVENT  OF  NANCY  AND  PETER  271 

her  wicker  chair,  while  her  voice  was  moved  to  unusual 
solicitude  as  she  spoke.  Peter  also  had  performed  a  rite 
he  spoke  of  as  "brushing  up"  for  evening.  He  believed 
in  the  efficacy  of  soap  and  water,  so  his  body,  as  well  as  his 
clothing,  was  clean.  He  sat  on  the  top  step  leaning  against 
the  pillar  where  the  moonlight  emphasized  his  big  frame, 
accented  the  strong  lines  of  his  face  and  crowned  his  thick 
hair,  as  Nancy  Harding  thought  it  should  be,  with  glory. 

"Peter,"  she  said,  "did  you  notice  anything  about  that 
boy,  this  afternoon,  different  from  other  boys  ? " 

"Yes,"  answered  Peter  slowly,  "I  did  Nancy.  He 
didn't  strike  me  as  being  one  boy.  He  has  the  best  of 
three  or  four  concealed  in  his  lean  person." 

"He's  had  a  pretty  tough  time,  I  judge,"  said  Nancy. 

"Yet  you  never  saw  a  boy  who  took  your  heart  like  he 
did,  and  neither  did  I,"  answered  Peter. 

Mickey  holding  his  basket  and  clover  flowers  was  wait- 
ing when  the  car  drew  up,  and  to  Bruce's  inquiry  answered 
that  a  lady  where  he  stopped  for  a  drink  had  given  him 
something  for  Lily.  He  left  the  car  in  the  city,  sought  the 
nurse  and  luckily  found  her  at  leisure.  She  listened  with 
the  greatest  interest  to  all  he  had  to  say. 

"It's  a  problem,"  she  said,  as  he  finished.  "To  take 
her  to  such  a  place  for  a  week,  and  then  bring  her  back 
where  she  is,  would  be  harder  for  her  than  never  going." 

"I  got  that  figured,"  said  Mickey;  "but  Fve  about 
made  up  my  mind,  after  seeing  the  place  and  thinking 
over  the  folks,  that  it  wouldn't  happen  that  way.  Once 
they  see  her,  and  find  how  little  trouble  she  is,  they're  not 
people  who  would  send  her  back  'til  it's  cool,  if  they'd 


272  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

want  to  then.  And  there's  this,  too:  there  are  other 
folks  who  would  take  her  now,  and  see  about  her  back. 
Have  I  got  the  right  to  let  it  go  a  day,  waiting  to  earn  the 
money  myself,  when  some  one  else,  maybe  the  Moon- 
shine Lady,  or  Mr.  Bruce,  would  do  it  now,  and  not  put 
her  in  an  Orphings*  Home,  either?" 

"No  Mickey,  you  haven't!"  said  the  nurse. 

"Just  the  way  I  have  it  figured,"  said  Mickey.  "tfut 
she's  mine,  and  I'm  going  to  keep  her.  If  her  back  is 
fixed,  I'm  going  to  have  it  done.  I  don't  want  any  one 
else  meddling  with  my  family.  You  haven't  heard  any- 
thing from  the  Carrel  man  yet?" 

"No,"  she  said. 

"My,  I  wish  he'd  come!"  cried  Mickey. 

"So  do  I,"  said  the  nurse.  "But  so  far  Mickey,  I  think 
you  are  doing  all  right.  If  she  must  be  operated,  she'd 
have  to  be  put  in  condition  for  it;  and  while  I  suspect  I 
could  beat  you  at  your  job,  I  am  positive  you  are  far  sur- 
passing what  she  did  have." 

"Well  I  know  that  too,"  said  Mickey.  "But  surpass- 
ing nothing  at  all  isn't  going  either  far  or  fast.  I  must 
do  something." 

"If  you  could  bring  yourself  to  consent  to  giving  her 
up "  suggested  the  nurse. 

"Well  I  can't!"  interposed  Mickey. 

/'Just  for  a  while!"  continued  the  nurse. 

"Not  fora  minute!     I  found  her!     She's  mine!" 

"Yes,  I  know;  but "  began  the  nurse. 

"I  know  too,"  said  Mickey.  "Gimme  a  little  time." 
He  studied  the  problem  till  he  reached  his  grocery. 


THE  ADVENT  OF  NANCY  AND  PETER  273 

There  he  thriftily  lifted  the  cloth  to  peep,  and  with  a 
sigh  of  satisfaction  pursued  his  way.  Presently  he  opened 
his  door,  to  be  struck  by  a  wave  of  hot  air  and  to  note  a 
flushed  little  face  and  drawn  mouth  as  he  went  into 
Peaches'  outstretched  arms.  Then  he  delivered  the  care- 
fully carried  clover  and  the  following: 

"  I  got  these  from  a  big,  pink  field  bewildering, 
That  God  made  a-purpose  for  cows  and  childering. 
Her  share  is  being  consumed  by  the  cow, 
Let's  go  roll  in  ours  right  now." 

"Again!"  demanded  Peaches. 

Mickey  repeated  slowly. 

"How  could  we?"  asked  Peaches. 

"Easy! "said  Mickey. 

"'Easy?'"  repeated  Peaches. 

"Just  as  easy!"  reiterated  Mickey. 

"Did  you  see  it?"  demanded  Peaches. 

"Yes,  I  saw  it  to-day,"  said  Mickey.  "It's  like  this: 
you  see  some  folks  live  in  houses  all  built  together,  and 
work  at  selling  things  to  eat,  and  wear,  and  making 
things,  and  doing  other  work  that  must  be  done  like  doc- 
tors, and  lawyers,  and  hospitals;  that's  a  city.  Then 
to  feed  them,  other  folks  live  on  big  pieces  of  land;  the 
houses  are  far  apart,  with  streets  between,  and  beside 
them  the  big  fields  where  the  wheat  grows  for  our  bread, 
and  our  potatoes,  and  the  grass,  and  the  clover  like  this 
to  feed  the  cows.  To-day  Mr.  Bruce  didn't  play  long, 
so  I  went  walking  and  stopped  at  a  house  for  a  drink,  and 
there  was  the  nicest  lady;  we  talked  some  and  she  give  me 


274  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

our  supper  in  that  pretty  basket;  and  she  sent  you  the 
clovers  from  a  big  pink  field  so  sweet  smelly  it  would  'most 
make  you  sick;  and  there  are  trees  through  it,  and  lots 
of  birds  sing,  and  there  are  wild  roses  and  fringy  white 
flowers;  and  it's  quiet  'cept  the  birds,  and  the  roosters 
crowing,  and  the  wind  comes  in  little  perfumey  blows  on 
you,  and  such  milk!" 

"Better  'an  our  milk?"  asked  Peaches. 

"Their  milk  is  so  rich  it  makes  ours  look  like  a  poor- 
house  relation,"  scoffed  Mickey. 

"Tell  me  more,"  demanded  Peaches. 

"Wait  'til  I  get  the  water  to  wash  you,  you  are  so  warm." 

"Yes,  it's  getting  some  hot;  but  'tain't  nothing  like  on 
the  rags  last  summer.  It's  like  a  real  lady  here." 

"A  pretty  warm  lady,  just  the  same,"  said  Mickey. 

Then  he  brought  water  and  leaving  the  door  ajar  for  the 
first  time,  he  soon  started  a  draft;  that  with  the  coming  of 
cooler  evening  lowered  t'.ie  child's  temperature,  and  made 
her  hungry.  As  he  worked  Mickey  talked.  The  grass, 
the  blooming  orchard,  the  hen  and  her  little  downy 
chickens,  the  big  cool  porch,  the  wonderful  woman  and 
man,  the  boy  whom  they  expected  and  who  did  not 
come;  and  then  cautiously,  slowly,  making  sure  she  under- 
stood, he  developed  his  plan  to  take  her  to  the  country. 
Peaches  drew  back  and  opened  her  lips.  Mickey  promptly 
laid  the  washcloth  over  them. 

'Now  don't  begin  to  say  you  'won't'  like  a  silly  baby," 
he  said.  "Try  it  and  see,  then  if  you  don't  like  it,  you  can 
come  right  back.  You  want  to  ride  in  a  grand  automobile 
like  a  millyingaire  lady,  don't  you?  All  the  swells  go 


THE  ADVENT  OF  NANCY  AND  PETER  275 

away  to  the  country  for  the  summer,  you  got  to  be  a  swell 
lady!  I  ain't  going  to  have  you  left  way  behind!" 

"Mickey,  would  you  be  there?"  she  asked. 

"Yes  lady,  I'd  be  right  on  the  job!"  said  Mickey.  "I'd 
be  there  a  lot  more  than  I  am  here.  You  go  the  week  they 
wanted  that  boy,  and  he  didn't  come;  then  if  you  like  it, 
I'll  see  if  they  won't  board  you,  and  you  can  have  a  nice 
little  girl  to  play  with,  and  a  fat,  real  baby,  and  a  boy 
bigger  than  me — and  you  should  see  Peter!" 

Peaches  opened  her  lips,  Mickey  reapplied  the  cloth. 

"Calm  down  now!"  he  ordered.  "I've  decided  to  do  it. 
We  got  to  hump  ourselves.  This  is  our  chance.  Why 
there's  milk,  and  butter,  and  eggs,  and  things  to  eat  there 
like  you  never  tasted,  and  to  have  a  cool  breeze,  and  to 
lie  on  the  grass " 

"Oh  Mickey,  could  I?"  cried  Peaches. 

"Sure  silly!  Why  not?"  said  Mickey.  "There's  big 
fields  of  it,  and  the  cows  don't  need  it  all.  You  can  lie  on 
the  grass,  or  the  clover,  and  hear  the  birds,  and  play  with 
the  children.  I'll  take  a  day  and  get  things  started  right 
before  I  leave  you  to  come  to  work,  like  I'll  have  to. 
When  I  come  at  night,  I'll  carry  you  outdoors;  why  I'll 
take  you  down  to  the  water  and  you  can  kick  your  feet  in 
it,  where  it's  nice  and  warm;  all  the  time  you  can  have  as 
many  flowers  as  your  hands  will  hold;  and  such  bird  sing- 
ing, why  Lily  Peaches  O'Halloran,  there  are  birds  as  red 
as  blood,  yes  ma'am,  and  yellow  as  orange  peel  and  light 
blue  like  this  ribbon  and  dark  blue  like  that — hold  still 
'til  I  fix  you — and  such  singing!" 

"Mickey,  would  you  hold  me?"  wavered  Peaches. 


276  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Smash  anybody  that  lays  a  finger  on  you,  unless  you 
say  so,"  said  Mickey  promptly. 

"And  you'd  stay  a  whole  day?"  she  asked  anxiously. 

"Sure '."cried  Mickey. 

"An*  if  I  was  afraid  you'd  bring  me  back?"  she  went 
on. 

"Sure!     Right  away!"  he  promised. 

"An'  they  wouldn't  anybody  'get'  me  there?" 

"'Way  out  there  'mong  the  clover?"  scoffed  Mickey. 
"Why  it's  here  they'll  'get'  you  if  they  are  going  to.  No- 
body out  there  wants  you,  but  me." 

"Mickey,  when  will  you  take  me?"  she  asked  eagerly. 

"Before  so  very  long,"  promised  Mickey.  "You 
needn't  be  surprised  to  hear  me  coming  with  the  nice 
lady  to  see  you  any  day  now,  and  to  be  wrapped  in  a  sheet, 
and  put  in  a  big  car,  and  just  scooted  right  out  to  the  very 
place  that  God  made  especial  for  little  girls.  To-night  we 
put  in  another  blesses,  Lily.  We'll  pray,  'Bless  the  nice 
lady  who  sent  our  supper,'  won't  we?" 

"Yes  Mickey,  and  'fore  you  came  I  didn't  want  any 
supper  at  all,  and  now  I  do"  said  Peaches. 

"You  were  too  warm  honey,"  said  Mickey.  "We'll 
just  fix  this  old  hot  city.  We'll  run  right  away  from  it. 
See?  Now  we'll  have  the  grandest  supper  we  ever  had." 

Mickey  brought  water,  plates,  and  forks,  and  opened 
the  basket.  Peaches  bolstered  with  her  pillows  cried  out 
and  marvelled.  There  was  a  quart  boftle  of  milk  wrapped 
in  a  wet  cloth.  There  was  a  big  loaf  of  crusty  brown  coun- 
try bread.  There  was  a  small  blue  bowl  of  yellow  butter, 
a  square  of  honey  even  yellower,  a  box  of  strawberries, 


THE  ADVENT  OF  NANCY  AND  PETER  277 

and  some  powdered  sugar,  and  a  little  heap  of  sliced,  cold 
boiled  ham.  Mickey  surveyed  the  table. 

"Now Miss  Chicken,  here's  how!"  he  warned.  "I  found 
you  all  warm  and  feverish.  If  you  load  up  with  this, 
you'll  be  sick  sure.  You  get  a  cup  of  milk,  a  slice  of  bread 
and  butter,  some  berries  and  a  teeny  piece  of  meat.  We 
can  live  from  this  a  week,  if  the  heat  doesn't  spoil  it." 

"You  fix  me,"  said  Peaches. 

Then  they  had  such  a  supper  as  they  neither  one  ever 
had  known,  during  which  Mickey  explained  wheat  fields 
and  bread,  bees  and  honey,  cows  and  clover,  pigs  and  ham, 
as  he  understood  them.  Peaches  repeated  her  lesson  and 
her  prayers  and  then  as  had  become  her  custom,  demanded 
that  Mickey  write  his  last  verse  on  the  slate,  so  she  might 
learn  and  copy  it  on  the  morrow.  She  was  asleep  before 
he  finished.  Mickey  walked  softly,  cleared  the  table, 
placed  it  before  the  window,  and  taking  from  his  pocket  an 
envelope  Mr.  Bruce  had  given  him  drew  out  a  sheet  of 
folded  paper  on  which  he  wrote  long  and  laboriously,  then 
locking  Peaches  in,  he  slipped  down  to  the  mail-box  and 
posted  this  letter: 

DEAR  MISTER  CARREL: 

I  saw  in  papers  I  sold  how  you  put  different  legs  on  a  dog.  I  have  a 
little  white  flowersy-girl  that  hasn't  ever  walked.  It's  her  back.  A 
Nurse  Lady  told  me  at  the  "Star  of  Hope"  how  you  came  there  some- 
times, and  the  next  time  you  come,  I  guess  I  will  let  you  see  my  little 
girl;  and  maybe  I'll  have  you  fix  her  back.  When  you  see  her  you  will 
know  that  to  fix  her  back  would  be  the  biggest  thing  you  ever  did  or 
ever  could  do.  I  got  a  job  that  I  can  pay  her  way  and  mine,  and  save 
two  dollars  a  week  for  you.  I  couldn't  pay  all  at  once,  but  I  could  pay 
steadv;  and  if  you'd  lose  all  you  have  in  any  way,  it  would  come  in  real 


278  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

handy  to  have  that  much  skating  in  steady  as  the  clock  every  week  for 
as  long  as  you  say,  and  soon  as  I  can,  I'll  make  it  more.  I'd  give  all  I 
got,  or  ever  can  get,  to  cure  Lily's  back,  and  because  you  fixed  the  dog, 
I'd  like  you  to  fix  her.  I  do  hope  you  will  come  soon,  but  of  course  I 
don't  wish  anybody  else  would  get  sick  so  you'd  have  to.  You  can  ask 
if  I  am  square  of  Mr.  Douglas  Bruce,  Iriquois  Building,  Multiopolis, 
Indiana,  or  of  Mr.  Chaffner,  editor  of  the  Herald,  whose  papers  I've 
sold  since  I  was  big  enough. 

MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN. 


CHAPTER  XII 
FEMININE  REASONING 

WITH  vigour  renewed  by  a  night  of  rest  Leslie  be- 
gan her  second  day  at  Atwater  Cabin.  She  had 
so  many  and  such  willing  helpers  that  before 
noon  she  could  find  nothing  more  to  do.  After  lunch  she 
felt  a  desire  to  explore  her  new  world.  Choosing  the 
shady  side,  she  followed  the  road  toward  the  club  house, 
but  one  thought  in  her  mind:  she  must  return  in  time  to 
take  the  car  and  meet  Douglas  Bruce  as  she  had  promised. 

She  felt  elated  that  she  had  so  planned  her  summer  as  to 
spend  it  with  her  father,  while  of  course  it  was  going  to  be 
delightful  to  have  her  lover  with  her.  So  going  she  came 
to  a  most  attractive  lane  that  led  from  the  road  between 
tilled  fields,  back  to  a  wood  on  one  side,  and  open  pasture 
on  the  other.  Faintly  she  heard  the  shouts  of  children, 
and  yielding  to  sudden  impulse  she  turned  and  followed 
the  grassy  path.  A  few  more  steps,  then  she  stopped  in 
surprise.  An  automobile  was  standing  on  the  bank  of  a 
brook.  On  an  Indian  blanket  under  a  tree  sat  a  woman 
of  fine  appearance  holding  a  book,  but  watching  with 
smiling  face  the  line  of  the  water,  which  spread  in  a  wide 
pool  above  a  rudely  constructed  dam,  overflowing  it  in  a 
small  waterfall. 

On  either  bank  lay  one  of  the  Minturn  boys,  muddy  and 

279 


28o  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

damp,  trying  with  his  hands  to  catch  something  in  the 
water.  Below  the  dam,  in  a  blue  balbriggan  bathing  suit, 
stood  James  Minturn,  his  hands  filled  with  a  big  piece  of 
sod  which  he  bent  and  applied  to  a  leak.  Leslie  untied 
the  ribbons  of  her  sunshade  and  rumpling  her  hair  to  the 
light  breeze  came  forward  laughing. 

"Well  Mr.  Minturn!"  she  cried.  "What  is  going  to 
become  of  the  taxpayers  of  Multiopolis  while  their  cham- 
pion builds  a  sod  dam?" 

Whether  the  flush  on  James  Minturn's  face  as  he  turned 
to  her  was  exertion,  embarrassment,  or  unpleasant  memory 
Leslie  could  not  decide;  but  she  remembered,  after  her 
impulsive  greeting,  that  she  had  been  with  his  wife  in  that 
early  morning  meeting  the  day  of  the  trip  to  the  swamp. 
She  thought  of  many  things  as  she  went  forward.  James 
Minturn  held  out  his  muddy  hands  as  he  said  laughingly: 
"You  see  I'm  not  in  condition  for  our  customary  greet- 
ing." 

"Surely!"  cried  Leslie.  "It  is  going  to  wash  off,  isn't 
it?  If  from  you,  why  not  from  me?" 

"Of  course  if  you  want  to  play!"  he  said. 

"Playing?     You?     Honestly?"  queried  Leslie. 

"Honestly  playing,"  answered  the  man.  "The  'hon- 
estest*  playing  in  all  the  world;  not  the  political  game,  not 
the  money  game,  not  anything  called  manly  sport,  just  a 
day  off  with  my  boys,  being  a  boy  again.  Heavens  Les- 
lie, I'm  wild  about  it.  I  could  scarcely  sleep  last  night 
for  eagerness  to  get  started.  But  let  me  make  you  ac- 
quainted with  my  family.  My  sister,  Mrs.  Winslow,  a 
friend  of  mine,  Miss  Leslie  Winton;  my  sons'  tutor,  Mr. 


FEMININE  REASONING  281 

Tower;  my  little  brother,  William  Minturn;  my  boys, 
Junior  and  Malcolm." 

"Anyway,  we  can  shake  hands,"  said  Leslie  to  Mrs. 
Winslow.  "The  habit  is  so  ingrained  I  am  scandalized 
on  meeting  people  if  I'm  forced  to  neglect  it." 

"Will  you  share  my  blanket?"  asked  Mrs.  Winslow. 

"Thanks!  Yes,  for  a  little  time,"  said  Leslie.  "I  am 
greatly  interested  in  what  is  going  on  here." 

"So  am  I,"  said  Mrs.  Winslow.  "We  are  engaged 
in  the  evolution  of  an  idea.  A  real  'Do-the-boy's- 
hahV" 

"It  seems  to  be  doing  them  good,"  commented  Leslie. 

"Never  mind  the  boys,"  said  Mr.  Minturn.  "I  object 
to  such  small  men  monopolizing  your  attention.  Look  at 
the  'good'  this  is  doing  me.  And  would  you  please  tell  me 
why  you  are  here,  instead  of  disporting  yourself  at,  say 
Lenox?" 

"How  funny!"  laughed  Leslie.  "I  am  out  in  search  of 
amusement,  and  I'm  finding  it.  I  think  I'm  perhaps  a 
mile  from  our  home  for  the  summer." 

"  You  amaze  me ! "  cried  Mr.  Minturn.  "  I  saw  Douglas 
this  morning,  and  told  him  where  I  was  coming,  but  he 
,  never  said  a  word." 

"He  didn't  know  one  to  say  on  this  subject,"  explained 
Leslie.  "You  see  I  rented  a  cabin  over  on  Atwater  and 
had  my  plans  made  before  I  told  even  father  what  a  de- 
lightful thing  was  in  store  for  him." 

"But  how  did  it  happen?" 

"Through  my  seeing  how  desperately  busy  Daddy  and 
Douglas  have  been  all  spring,  Daddy  especially,"  replied 


282  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Leslie.     "Douglas  is  bad  enough,  but  father's  just  ob- 
sessed, so  much  so  that  I  think  he's  carrying  double." 

"I  know  he  is,"  said  Mr.  Minturn.  "And  so  you  made 
a  plan  to  allow  him  to  proceed  with  his  work  all  day  and 
then  have  the  delightful  ride,  fishing  and  swimming  in 
Atwater  morning  and  evening.  How  wonderful!  And  of 
course  Douglas  will  be  there  also?" 

"Of  course,"  agreed  Leslie.  "At  least  he  shall  have  an 
invitation.  I'm  going  to  surprise  him  with  it  this  very 
evening.  How  do  you  think  he'll  like  it?" 

"I  think  he  will  be  so  overjoyed  he  won't  know  how  to 
express  himself,"  said  James  Minturn.  "But  isn't  it 
going  to  be  lonely  for  you  ?  Won't  you  miss  your  friends, 
your  frocks,  and  your  usual  summer  round?" 

"You  forget,"  said  Leslie.  "My  friends  and  my  frocks 
always  have  been  for  winter.  All  my  life  I  have  summered 
with  father." 

"How  will  you  amuse  yourself?"  he  asked. 

"It  will  take  some  time  each  day  to  plan  what  to  do 
the  next  that  will  bring  most  refreshment  and  joy;  I  often 
will  be  compelled  to  drive  in  of  mornings  with  orders  for 
my  housekeeping,  and  when  other  things  are  exhausted, 
I  am  going  to  make  an  especial  study  of  wild-bird  music." 

"That  is  an  Attractive  subject/'  said  Mr.  Minturn. 
"Have  you  really  made  any  progress?" 

"Little  more  than  verifying  a  few  songs  already  re- 
corded," replied  Leslie.  "  I  hear  smatterings  and  snatches, 
but  they  are  elusive,  while  I'm  not  always  sure  of  the  iden- 
tity of  the  bird.  But  the  subject  is  thrillingly  tempting." 

"It  surely  is,"  conceded  Mr.  Minturn.     "I  could  see 


FEMININE  REASONING  283 

that  Nellie  was  alert  the  instant  you  mentioned  it.  Come 
over  here  to  the  shade  and  tell  me  how  far  you  have  gone. 
You  see  I've  undertaken  the  boys'  education.  Malcolm 
inherits  his  mother's  musical  ability  to  a  wonderful  degree. 
It  is  possible  that  he  could  be  started  on  this,  and  so  begin 
his  work  while  he  thinks  he's  playing." 

Leslie  walked  to  the  spot  indicated,  far  enough  away 
that  conversation  would  not  interrupt  Mrs.  Winslow's 
reading,  and  near  enough  to  watch  the  boys;  she  and  Mr. 
Minturn  sat  on  the  grass  and  talked. 

"It  might  be  the  very  thing,"  said  Leslie.  "Whatever 
gives  even  a  faint  hope  of  attracting  a  boy  to  an  educa- 
tional subject  is  worth  testing." 

"One  thing  I  missed,  I  always  have  regretted,"  said 
:  Mr.  Minturn,  "I  never  fiad  educated  musical  compre- 
.  hension.  Nellie  performed  and  sang  so  well,  and  in  my 
soul  I  knew  what  I  could  understand  and  liked  in  music 
she  scorned.  Sometimes  I  thought  if  I  had  known  only 
enough  to  appreciate  the  right  thing  at  the  right  time, 
it  might  have  formed  a  slender  tie  between  us;  so  I 
want  the  boys  both  to  recognize  good  music  when  they 
hear  it;  but  they  have  so  much  to  learn  all  at  once,  pool 
little  chaps,  I  scarcely  see  where  to  begin,  and  in  a  mu- 
sical way,  I  don't  even  know  how  to  begin.  Tell  me 
about  the  birds,  Leslie.  Just  what  is  it  you  are  studying? " 

"The  strains  of  our  famous  composers  that  are  lifted 
bodily  for  measures  at  a  time,  from  the  song  of  a  bird  or 
indisputably  based  upon  it,"  answered  Leslie. 

"Did  you  and  Nellie  have  any  success?" 

"Indeed  yes!     We  had  the  royal  luck  to  hear  exactly 


284  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

the  song  I  had  hoped;  and  besides  we  talked  of  many 
things  and  Nellie  settled  her  future  course  in  her  mind. 
When  she  went  into  the  swamp  alone  and  came  out  with 
an  armload  of  lavender  fringed  orchids  she  meant  to  carry 
to  Elizabeth,  and  her  heart  firmly  resolved  to  begin  a  new 
life  with  you,  she  told  me  she  felt  like  flying;  that  never 
had  she  been  so  happy." 

Leslie  paused,  glancing  at  James  Minturn.  He  seemed 
puzzled:  "I  don't  understand.  But  nothing  matters  now. 
Tell  me  about  the  birds,"  he  said. 

"And  it  is  what  you  admit  you  don't  understand  that 
I  must  tell  you  of,"  said  Leslie.  "I've  been  afraid,  hor- 
ribly afraid  you  didn't  understand,  and  that  you  took 
some  course  you  wouldn't  have  taken  if  you  did.  What 
happened  in  the  swamp  was  all  my  fault!" 

"The  birds,  Leslie,  tell  me  of  the  birds,"  commanded 
James  Minturn.  "You  can't  possibly  know  what  occurred 
that  separated  Nellie  and  me." 

"No,  I  don't  know  your  side  of  it;  but  I  do  know  hers, 
and  I  don't  think  you  do,"  persisted  Leslie.  "Now  if  you 
would  be  big  enough  to  let  me  tell  you  how  it  was  with  her 
that  day,  and  what  she  said  to  me,  your  mind  would  be 
perfectly  at  rest  as  to  the  course  you  have  taken." 

"My  mind  is  'perfectly  at  rest  now  as  to  the  course  I 
have  taken,'"  said  Mr.  Minturn.  "I  realize  that  a  man 
should  meet  life  as  it  comes  to  him.  I  endured  mine  in 
sweating  humiliation  for  years,  and  I  would  have  gone  on 
to  the  end,  if  it  had  been  a  question  of  me  only,  but  when 
the  girl  was  sacrificed  and  the  boys  in  a  fair  way  to  meet 
a  worse  fate  than  hers,  the  question  no  longer  hinged  on 


FEMININE  REASONING  285 

me.  You  have  seen  my  sons  during  their  mother's 
regime,  when  they  were  children  of  wealth  in  the  care  of 
servants;  look  at  them  now  and  dare  to  tell  me  that  they 
are  not  greatly  improved." 

"Surely  they  are!"  said  Leslie.  "You  did  right  to 
rescue  them  from  their  environment;  all  the  fault  that  lies 
with  you  so  far  is,  that  you  did  not  do  from  the  start  what 
you  are  now  doing.  The  thing  that  haunts  me  is  this, 
Mr.  Minturn,  and  I  must  get  it  out  of  my  mind  before  I 
can  sleep  soundly  again — you  will  let  me  tell  you — you 
won't  think  me  meddling  in  what  must  be  dreadful  heart- 
ache? Oh  you  won't  will  you?" 

"No,  I  won't,"  said  Mr.  Minturn,  "but  it  is  prolonging 
heartache  to  discuss  this  matter,  and  wasting  time  better 
used  in  the  building  of  >a  sod  dam — indeed  Leslie,  tell  me 
about  the  birds." 

"I  will,  if  you'll  answer  one  question,"  said  Leslie. 

"Dangerous,  but  I'll  risk  it,"  replied  Mr.  Minturn. 

"I  must  ask  two  or  three  minor  ones  to  reach  the  real 
one,"  explained  the  girl. 

"Oh  Leslie,"  laughed  Mr.  Minturn.  "I  didn't  think 
you  were  so  like  the  average  woman." 

"A  large  number  of  men  are  finding  'the  average 
woman'  quite  delightful,"  said  Leslie.  "Men  respect  a 
masculine,  well-balanced,  argumentative  woman,  but 
every  time  they  love  and  marry  the  impulsive,  change- 
able,  companionable  one." 

1  "Provided  she  be  endowed  with  truth,  character,  and 
common  mother  instinct  enough  to  protect  her  young — 
yes— I  grant  it,  and  glory  in  it,"  said  Mr.  Minturn.  "I 


286  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

can  furnish  logic  for  one  family,  and  most  men  I  know  feel 
qualified  to  do  the  same." 

" Surely!"  agreed  Leslie.  "You  were  waiting  for  Nellie 
the  night  she  came  from  the  tamarack  swamp  with  me, 
and  she  told  me  you  had  a  little  box,  and  that  with  its 
contents  you  had  threatened  to  'freeze  her  soul,'  if  she 
had  a  soul.  I'll  be  logical  and  fair,  and  ask  but  the  one 
question  I  first  stipulated.  Here  it  is:  did  you  wait  until 
you  made  sure  she  had  a  soul,  worthy  of  your  considera- 
tion, before  you  froze  it?" 

James  Minturn's  laugh  was  ugly  to  hear. 

"My  dear  girl,"  he  said.  "I  made  sure  she  had  not 
three  years  ago." 

"And  I  made  equally  sure  that  she  had,"  said  Leslie, 
"in  the  tamarack  swamp  when  she  wrestled  as  Jacob  at 
Peniel  against  her  birth,  her  environment,  her  wealth,  and 
triumphed  over  all  of  them  for  you  and  her  sons.  I  can't 
go  on  with  my  own  plan  for  personal  happiness,  until  I 
know  for  sure  if  you  perfectly  understand  that  she  came  to 
you  that  night  to  confess  to  you  her  faults,  errors,  mis- 
takes, sins,  if  need  be,  and  ask  you  to  take  the  head  of  your 
household,  and  to  help  her  fashion  each  hour  of  her  life 
anew.  Did  she  have  a  chance  to  tell  you  all  this?" 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Minturn.  "But  it  would  have  made 
no  difference,  if  she  had.  It  came  too  late." 

"You  have  not  the  right  to  say  that  to  any  living,  suf- 
fering human  being!"  protested  Leslie. 

"I  have  a  perfect  right  to  say  it  to  her,"  said  Mr.  Min- 
turn. "A  right  that  would  be  justified  in  any  court  in 
the  world,  either  of  lawyers  or  people." 


FEMININE  REASONING  287 

"Then  thank  God,  Nellie  gets  her  trial  higher.  He 
will  understand,  and  forgive  her." 

"You  don't  know  what  she  did,"  said  Mr.  Minturn. 
"What  she  stood  before  me  and  the  officers  of  the  law, 
and  admitted  she  did." 

"I  don't  care  what  she  did!  There  were  men  forgiven 
on  the  cross;  because  they  sincerely  repented,  God  had 
mercy  on  them,  so  He  will  on  her,  and  what's  more,  He 
won't  have  any  on  you,  unless  you  follow  His  example  and 
forgive  when  you  are  asked,  by  a  woman  as  deeply  re- 
pentant as  she  was." 

"Her  repentance  comes  too  late,"  said  Mr.  Minturn 
with  finality.  "Her  error  is  not  reparable" 

"There  is  no  such  thing  as  true  repentance  being  too 
late,"  insisted  Leslie.  "You  are  distinctly  commanded 
to  forgive;  you  have  got  to  do  it!  There  is  no  error  that 
is  not  reparable.  Since  you  hint  tragedy,  I  will  concede 
it.  If  she  had  been  directly  responsible  for  the  death  of 
her  child,  it  was  a  mistake,  criminal  carelessness,  but  not 
a  thing  purposely  planned;  so  she  could  atone  for  it  by 
doing  her  best  for  you  and  the  boys." 

"Any  mother  who  once  did  the  things  she  did  is  not  fit 
to  be  trusted  again!" 

"What  nonsense!  James  Minturn,  you  amaze  me!'* 
said  Leslie.  "That  is  a  little  too  cold  masculine  logic. 
That  is  taking  from  the  whole  human  race  the  power  to 
repent  of  and  repair  a  mistake." 

"There  are  some  mistakes  that  cannot  be  repaired!" 

"I  grant  it,"  said  Leslie.  "There  are!  You  are  mak- 
ing one  right  now  J" 


288  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"That's  the  most  strictly  feminine  utterance  I  ever 
heard,"  said  Mr.  Minturn,  with  a  short  laugh. 

"Thank  you,"  retorted  Leslie.  "The  compliment  is 
high,  but  I  accept  it.  I  ask  nothing  better  at  the  hands 
of  fate  than  to  be  the  most  feminine  of  women.  And  I've 
told  you  what  I  feel  forced  to.  You  can  now  go  on  with 
your  plans,  knowing  they  are  exactly  what  she  had  mapped 
out,  hastily,  but  surely.  She  said  to  me  that  she  must 
build  from  the  foundations,  which  meant  a  new  home." 

"You  are  fatuously  mistaken!"  said  Mr.  Minturn. 

"She  said  to  me,"  reiterated  Leslie  forcefully,  "that  for 
ten  years  she  had  done  exactly  what  she  pleased,  lived 
only  for  her  own  pleasure,  now  she  would  do  as  you  dic- 
tated for  a  like  time,  live  your  way — I  never  was  farther 
from  a  mistake  in  my  life.  If  you  think  it  doesn't  take 
courage  to  tell  you  this,  and  if  you  think  I  enjoy  it,  and 
if  you  think  I  don't  wish  I  wrere  a  mile  away " 

"I  still  maintain  I  know  the  lady  better  than  you  do," 
said  Mr.  Minturn.  "  But  you  are  wonderful  Leslie,  and  I 
always  shall  respect  and  honour  you  for  your  effort  in  our 
behalf.  It  does  credit  to  your  head  and  heart.  I  envy 
Douglas  Bruce.  If  ever  an  hour  of  trial  comes  to  you, 
I  would  feel  honoured  for  a  chance  to  prove  to  you  how 
much  I  appreciate — — " 

"Don't  talk  like  that!"  wailed  Leslie.  "It's  all  a  fail- 
ure if  you  do!  Promise  me  that  you  will  think  this  over. 
Let  me  send  you  the  note  Nellie  wrote  me  before  she  went 
away.  Won't  you  try  to  imagine  what  she  is  suffering 
to-day,  in  the  change  from  what  she  went  to  you  hoping, 
and  what  she  received  at  your  hands?" 


FEMININE  REASONING  289 

"Let  me  see,"  said  James  Minturn.  "At  this  hour  she 
is  probably  enduring  the  pangs  of  wearing  the  most  taste- 
ful afternoon  gown  on  the  veranda  of  whatever  summer 
resort  suits  her  variable  fancy,  also  the  discomfiture  of  the 
woman  she  induced  to  bid  high  and  is  now  winning  from 
at  bridge.  I  am  particularly  intimate  with  her  forms  of 
suffering;  you  see  I  judge  them  by  my  own  and  my  chil- 
dren's during  the  past  years." 

"Then  you  think  I'm  not  sincere?"  asked  Leslie. 

"Surely,  my  dear  girl!"  said  Mr.  Minturn.  "With  all 
my  heart  I  believe  you !  I  know  you  are  loyal  to  her,  and 
to  me!  It  isn't  you  I  disbelieve,  child,  it  is  my  wife." 

"But  I've  told  you  over  and  over  that  she's  changed." 

"And  I  refuse  to  believe  in  her  power  to  undergo  the 
genuine  and  permanent  change  that  would  make  her  an 
influence  for  good  with  her  sons,  or  anything  but  an  un- 
controllable element  in  my  home,"  said  Mr.  Minturn. 
"Why  Leslie,  if  I  were  to  hunt  her  up  and  ask  her  to 
come  to  my  house,  do  you  think  she  would  do  it?" 

"I  know  she  would  be  most  happy,"  said  Leslie. 

"Small  plain  rooms,  wait  on  herself,  children  over  the 
house  and  lawn  at  all  times — Nellie  Minturn?  You 
amuse  me!"  he  said. 

"There's  no  amusement  in  it  for  me,  it  is  pitiful  trag- 
edy," said  Leslie.  "She  is  willing,  she  has  offered  to 
change,  you  are  denying  her  the  opportunity." 

"You  don't  think  deeply  enough!"  said  the  man.  "Sup- 
pose, knowing  her  as  I  do,  I  agreed  to  her  coming  to  my 
house.  Suppose  I  filled  it  with  servants  to  wait  on  her, 
and  ruin  and  make  snobs  of  the  boys;  it  could  only  result 


290  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

in  a  fiasco  all  around,  and  bring  me  again  to  the  awful 
thing  I  have  been  through  once,  in  forcing  a  separation. 
The  present  is  too  good  for  the  boys,  and  just  now  they 
are  my  first  consideration." 

"So  I  see,"  said  Leslie.  "Nellie  isn't  getting  a  par- 
ticle and  she  is  their  mother,  and  once  she  really  awakened 
to  the  situation,  she  was  hungry  to  mother  them,  and  to 
take  her  place  in  their  hearts.  I  don't  know  where  she 
is,  but  feeling  as  she  did  when  we  parted,  I  know  she's  not 
at  any  summer  resort  playing  bridge  at  this  minute." 

"You  are  a  friend  worth  having,  Leslie;  I  congratulate 
my  wife  on  so  staunch  an  advocate,"  said  James  Minturn. 
"And  Til  promise  you  this:  I'll  go  back  to  the  hateful 
subject,  just  when  I  felt  I  was  free  from  it.  I'll  think  on 
both  sides,  and  I'll  weigh  all  you've  said.  If  I  see  a 
glimmering,  I  will  do  this  much — I  will  locate  her,  and 
learn  how  genuine  was  the  change  you  witnessed,  and  I 
rather  think  I'll  manage  for  you  to  see  also.  Will  that 
satisfy  you?" 

"That  will  make  me  radiant,  because  the  change  I 
witnessed  was  genuine.  I  know  that  wherever  Nellie 
is  to-day  and  whatever  she  is  doing,  she  is  still  firm  as 
when  she  left  me  in  her  desire  for  reparation  toward  you 
and  her  sons.  Please  tV.nk  fast,  and  find  her  quickly." 

"Leslie,  you're  incorrigible!  Go  bring  Douglas  to  his 
surprise.  He  has  a  right  to  be  happy." 

"So  have  you,"  insisted  Leslie.  "More  than  he,  be- 
cause you  have  had  such  deep  sorrow.  Good-bye." 

Then  Leslie  took  leave  of  the  others,  returned  to  the 
cabin,  and  hurried  to  her  room  to  dress  for  her  trip  to 


FEMININE  REASONING  291 

bring  her  lover.  Douglas  Bruce  was  waiting  when  she 
stopped  at  the  Iriquois  and  his  greeting  was  joyous.  Mr. 
Winton  was  cordial,  but  Douglas  noticed  that  he  seemed 
tired  and  worried,  and  inquired  if  he  were  working  un- 
usually hard.  He  replied  that  he  was,  and  beginning  to 
feel  the  heat  a  little. 

"Then  we  will  drive  to  the  country  before  dinner  to 
cool  off,"  said  Leslie,  seeing  her  opportunity. 

Both  men  agreed  that  would  be  enjoyable.  After  a 
few  minutes  of  casual  talk  they  relaxed  while  making 
smooth  passage  over  city  streets  and  the  almost  equally 
level  highways  of  the  country.  At  the  end  of  half  an  hour 
Douglas  sat  upright,  looking  around  him. 

"I  don't  recognize  this,"  he  said.  "Have  we  been  here 
before,  Leslie?" 

"I  think  not,"  she  answered.  "I  don't  know  why.  It 
is  one  of  my  best  loved  drives.  Always  before  we  have 
taken  the  road  to  the  club  house,  or  some  of  its  branches." 

They  began  a  gentle  ascent,  when  directly  across  their 
v/ay  stretched  the  blue  water  of  a  lake. 

"Is  here  where  we  take  the  plunge?"  inquired  Douglas. 

"No  indeed!"  answered  Leslie.  "Here  we  speed  until 
we  gather  such  momentum  that  we  shoot  across  the  water 
and  alight  on  the  opposite  bank  without  stopping.  Make 
your  landing  neatly,  Rogers!" 

"Why  have  we  never  been  here  before?"  marvelled 
Douglas.  "I  don't  remember  any  other  road  one-half  so 
inviting.  Just  look  ahead  here!  See  what  a  beautiful 
picture!"  He  indicated  a  vine  of  creeping  blackberry 
spreading  over  gold  sand,  its  rough,  deeply  serrated  leaves 


292  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

of  most  artistic  cutting,  with  tufts  of  snowy  bloom  sur- 
rounding dark-tipped  stamens  in  their  centres. 

"Isn't  it!"  answered  Mr.  Winton.  "You  know  what 
Whitman  said  of  it  ? " 

"I'm  not  so  well  read  in  Whitman  as  you  are." 

"Which  is  your  distinct  loss,"  said  Mr.  Winton.  "It 
was  he  who  wrote,  'A  running  blackberry  would  adorn  the 
parlours  of  Heaven.' " 

"And  so  it  would!"  exclaimed  Douglas.  "What  a 
frieze  that  would  make  for  a  dining-room!  Have  you  ever 
seen  it  used?" 

"Never,"  answered  Leslie,  "or  many  other  of  our  most 
exquisite  forms  of  wild  growth." 

"What  beautiful  country!"  Douglas  commented  a 
minute  later  as  the  car  sped  from  the  swamp,  ran  uphill, 
and  down  a  valley  between  stretches  of  tilled  farm  land 
on  either  side,  sloping  back  to  the  lakes  now  growing  dis- 
tant, then  creeping  up  a  gradual  incline  until  Atwater 
flashed  into  sight. 

"Man!  That's  fine!"  he  said,  rising  in  the  car  to  better 
admire  the  view,  at  which  Leslie  signalled  the  driver  to 
run  slower.  "I  don't  remember  that  I  ever  saw  anything 
quite  so  attractive  as  this.  And  if  ever  water  invited  a 
swimmer — that  white  sand  bed  seems  to  extend  as  far 
into  the  lake  as  you  can  see.  Jove!  Wasn't  that  a  black 
bass  under  that  thorn  bush?" 

Leslie's  eyes  were  shining  while  her  laugh  was  as  joyous 
as  any  of  the  birds.  He  need  not  say  more.  There  was  a 
bathing  suit  in  his  room;  in  ten  minutes  he  could  be  cleav- 
ing the  water  to  the  opposite  shore  and  have  time  to  re- 


FEMININE  REASONING  293 

turn  before  dinner.  The  car  sped  down  where  the  road 
ran  level  with  the  water.  A  flock  of  waders  arose  and 
circled  the  lake.  On  the  right  was  the  orchard,  the  newly 
made  garden,  the  tiny  cabin  with  green  lawn,  hammocks 
swinging  between  trees,  Indian  blankets  spread,  and  the 
odour  of  cooking  food  in  the  air.  The  car  stopped, 
Douglas  sprang  out  and  offered  his  hand  as  he  saw  Leslie 
intended  descending.  She  took  the  hand  and  kept  it  in 
her  left.  With  her  right  she  included  woods,  water,  or- 
chard and  cabin. 

"These  are  my  surprise  for  you,"  she  said.  "I  am 
going  to  live  here  this  summer,  and  keep  house  for  you 
and  Dad  while  you  run  and  reform  the  world.  Welcome 
home,  Douglas!" 

He  slowly  looked  around,  then  at  Mr.  Winton. 

"Do  you  believe  her?"  he  asked  incredulously. 

"Yes  indeed!  Leslie  has  the  faculty  of  making  good. 
And  I'm  one  day  ahead  of  you.  She  tried  this  on  me  last 
night.  Hurry  into  your  bathing  suit;  we'll  swim  before 
dinner,  and  then  we'll  fish.  It  was  great  going  in  this 
morning!  I'm  sure  you'll  enjoy  it!" 

"  Enjoy  it ! "  cried  Douglas.  "  Here  is  where  the  paucity 
of  our  language  is  made  manifest." 

Too  happy  herself  for  the  right  word,  Leslie  showed 
Douglas  to  his  room,  with  its  white  bed,  and  row  of  hooks, 
on  one  of  which  hung  the  bathing  suit;  then  she  went  to 
put  on  her  own,  and  they  hurried  to  the  lake. 

"You  are  happy  here,  Leslie?"  asked  Douglas. 

"Never  in  my  life  have  I  been  so  happy  as  I  am  this  mo- 
ment," said  Leslie,  skifting  the  clear  water  with  her  hands 


294  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

while  she  waited  for  her  father  before  starting  the  swim 
to  the  opposite  shore.  "I've  got  the  most  joyous  thing 
to  tell  you." 

"Go  on  and  tell,  'Bearer  of  Morning,'"  he  said.  "I 
am  so  delighted  I'm  maudlin." 

"Right  over  there,  on  the  road  to  the  club  house,  while 
'seeking  new  worlds  to  conquer'  this  afternoon,  I  ran 
into  James  Minturn  wearing  a  bathing  suit,  to  his  knees 
in  mud  and  water,  building  a  sod  dam  for  his  boys." 

"You  did?"  cried  Douglas. 

"I  did!"  said  Leslie.  "Here's  the  picture:  a  beautiful 
winding  stream,  big  trees  like  these  on  the  banks,  shade 
and  flowers,  birds,  and  air  a-plenty,  a  fine  appearing 
woman  he  introduced  as  his  sister,  a  Minturn  boy  catching 
fish  with  his  bare  hands  on  either  bank,  the  brother  Min- 
turn must  have  adopted  legally,  since  he  gave  him  his 
name " 

"He  did,"  interrupted  Douglas.     "He  told  me  so " 

"I  was  sure  of  it,"  said  Leslie.  "And  an  interesting 
young  man,  a  tutor,  bringing  up  more  sod;  the  boys  acted 
quite  like  any  other  agreeably  engaged  children — but  Min- 
turn himself,  looking  like  a  man  I  never  saw  before, 
down  in  the  sand  and  water  building  a  sod  dam — a  sod 
dam  I'm  telling  you " 

"I  notice  what  you  are  telling  me,"  cried  Douglas. 
"It  is  duly  impressing  me.  'Dam'  is  all  I  can  think  of." 

"It's  no  wonder!"  exclaimed  Leslie. 

"What  did  he  say  to  you?"  queried  Douglas. 

"It  wasn't  necessary  for  him  to  say  anything,"  said 
Leslie.  "  I  could  see.  He  is  making  over  his  boys  and  in 


FEMININE  REASONING  295 

order  to  do  it  sympathetically,  and  win  their  confidence 
and  love,  he  is  being  a  boy  himself  again.  He  has  the 
little  chaps  under  control  now.  There  are  love  and  ad- 
miration in  their  tones  when  they  speak  to  him,  while  they 
obey  him.  Think  of  it!" 

"It  is  something  worth  thinking  of,"  said  Douglas. 
"He  was  driven  to  action,  but  his  methods  must  have  been 
heroic;  for  they  seem  to  have  worked." 

"Yes,  for  him  and  the  boys,"  said  Leslie,  "but  they  are 
not  all  his  family." 

"The  remainder  of  his  family  always  has  looked  out  for 
herself  to  the  exclusion  of  everything  else  in  life,  you  have 
told  me;  I  imagine  she  is  still  doing  it  with  wonderful  suc- 
cess," hazarded  Douglas. 

"It  amazes  me  how  men  can  be  so  unfeeling." 

"So  you  talked  to  him  about  her?" 

"I  surely  did!"  asserted  Leslie. 

"And  I'll  wager  you  wasted  words,"  said  Douglas. 

"  Not  one ! "  cried  the  girl.  "  He  will  remember  each  one 
I  spoke.  If  I  don't  hear  of  him  taking  some  action 
soon,  I'll  find  another  occasion,  and  try  again.  He  shall 
divide  the  joy  of  remaking  those  boys  with  their  mother." 

"She  will  respectfully — I  mean  disdainfully,  decline!" 

"You  don't  believe  she  was  in  earnest  in  what  she  said 
to  me  then?"  asked  the  girl. 

"I  am  quite  sure  she  was,"  he  answered,  "but  a  few 
days  of  her  former  life  with  her  old  friends  will  take  her 
back  to  her  previous  ways  with  greater  abandon  than 
ever.  You  mark  my  words." 

"Bother  your  words!"  cried  Leslie  emphatically.     "I 


296  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

tell  you  Douglas,  I  went  through  the  fire  with  her.  I 
watched  her  soul  come  out  white.  Promise  me  that  if 
ever  he  talks  to  you,  you  won't  say  anything  against  her." 

"It  would  be  a  temptation,"  he  said.  "Minturn  is  a 
different  man." 

"So  is  she  a  different  woman!  Come  on  Dad,  we  are 
waiting  for  you,"  called  Leslie.  "What  kept  you  so?" 

"A  paper  fell  from  my  pocket,  so  I  picked  it  up  and  in 
glancing  at  it  I  became  interested  in  a  thought  that  hadn't 
occurred  to  me  before,  and  I  forgot.  You  must  forgive 
your  old  Daddy;  his  hands  are  about  full  these  days. 
Between  my  job  for  the  city,  and  my  own  affairs,  and 
those  of  a  friend,  I  have  all  I  can  carry.  Now  let  me 
forget  business.  I  call  this  great  of  the  girl.  And  one 
of  the  biggest  appeals  to  me  is  the  bill  of  fare.  I  had 
a  dinner  for  a  king  last  night.  What  have  we  to-night?" 

"But  won't  anticipation  spoil  it?"  she  asked. 

"Not  a  particle,"  he  declared. 

"It's  the  fish  we  caught  last  night,  baked  potatoes, 
cress  salad  from  Minturn's  brook,  strawberries  from  At- 
waters,  cream  from  our  rented  cow,  real  clover  cream, 
Mrs.  James  says,  and  biscuit.  That's  all." 

"Glory!"  cried  Mr.  Winton.  "Doesn't  that  thrill 
you?  Let's  head  for  the  tallest  tamarack  of  the  swamp 
and  then  have  a  feast." 

On  the  opposite  bank  they  rested  a  few  minutes,  then 
returned  to  dinner.  Afterward,  with  Rogers  rowing  for 
Mr.  Winton,  and  Leslie  for  Douglas,  they  went  bass  fish- 
ing. When  the  boats  passed  on  the  far  shore  Leslie  and 
Douglas  had  three,  and  Mr.  Winton  five.  This  did  not 


FEMININE  REASONING  297 

prove  that  he  was  the  better  fisherman,  only  that  he  worked 
constantly;  they  lost  much  time  in  conversation  which  in- 
terested them;  but  as  they  enjoyed  what  they  had  to  say 
more  than  the  sport,  while  Leslie  only  wished  them  to  take 
the  fish  they  would  use,  it  was  their  affair.  The  girl  soon 
returned  to  the  Minturns  and  secured  a  promise  from 
Douglas  that  if  Mr.  Minturn  talked  with  him,  at  least  he 
would  say  nothing  to  discourage  his  friend  about  the 
sincerity  of  his  wife's  motives.  Leslie's  thoughts  then 
turned  to  the  surprise  Douglas  had  mentioned. 

"Oh,  that  pretty  girl?"  he  inquired  casually. 

"Yes,  Lily,"  she  said.  "Of  course  Mickey  took  you  to 
see  her!  Is  she  really  a  lovable  child,  and  attractive? 
Could  you  get  any  idea  of  what  is  her  trouble?" 

Douglas  carefully  reeled  while  looking  at  Leslie  with  a 
speculative  smile.  "You  refuse  to  consider  an  attractive 
young  lady  of  greater  beauty  than  I  have  previously 
seen?"  he  queried. 

"Absolutely!     Don't  waste  time  on  it,"  she  said. 

"You'll  have  to  begin  again  and  ask  me  one  at  a  time," 
he  laughed.  "What  was  your  first?" 

"Is  she  really  a  lovable  child?"  repeated  Leslie. 

"She  most  certainly  is,"  said  Douglas.  "I  could  love 
her  dearly.  It's  plain  that  Mickey  adores  her.  Why 
when  a  boy  gives  up  trips  to  the  country,  the  chance  to 
pick  up  good  money,  in  order  to  stand  over,  wash,  and  cook 
for  a  little  sick  girl,  what  is  the  answer?" 

"The  one  you  have  given — that  he  adores  her,"  con- 
ceded Leslie.  "The  next  was,  'Is  she  attractive?" 

"Wonderfully!"  cried  Douglas.     "And  what  she  would 


298  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

be  in  health  with  flesh  to  cover  her  bones  and  colour  on  her 
lips  and  cheeks  is  now  only  dimly  foreshadowed." 

"  She  must  have  her  chance,"  said  Leslie.  "  I  was  think- 
ing of  her  to-day.  I'll  go  to  see  her  at  once  and  bring  her 
here.  I  will  get  the  best  surgeon  in  Multiopolis  to  ex- 
amine her  and  a  nurse  if  need  be;  then  Mickey  can  come 
out  with  you." 

"Would  you  really,  Leslie?"  asked  Douglas. 

"But  why  not?"  cried  she.  "That's  one  of  the  things 
worth  while  in  the  world/' 

"I'd  love  to  go  halvers  with  you,"  proposed  Douglas. 
"Let's  do  it!  When  will  you  go  to  see  her?" 

"  In  a  few  days,"  said  Leslie.  ' '  The  last  one  was, '  Could 
you  get  any  idea  of  what  is  the  trouble?" 

"Very  little,"  said  Douglas.  "She  can  sit  up  and  move 
her  hands.  He  is  teaching  her  to  read  and  write.  She 
had  her  lesson  very  creditably  copied  out  on  her  slate. 
She  practises  in  his  absence  on  poems  Mickey  makes." 

"Poems?" 

"Doggerel,"  explained  Douglas.  "Four  lines  at  a  time. 
Some  of  it  is  pathetic,  some  of  it  is  witty,  some  of  it  pres- 
ages possibilities.  He  may  make  a  poet.  She  requires 
a  verse  each  evening,  so  he  recites  it,  then  writes  it  out, 
and  she  uses  it  for  copy  the  next  day.  The  finished 
product  is  to  have  a  sky-blue  cover  and  be  decorated  either 
with  an  English  sparrow,  the  only  bird  she  has  seen,  or  a 
cow.  She  likes  milk,  and  the  pictures  of  cows  give  her 
an  idea  that  she  can  handle  them  like  her  doll " 

"Oh  Douglas!"  protested  Leslie. 

"I  believe  she  thinks  a  whole  herd  of  cows  could  be 


FEMININE  REASONING  299 

kept  on  her  bed,  while  she  finds  them  quite  suitable  to 
decorate  Mickey's  volume,"  said  Douglas. 

"Why,  hasn't  she  seen  anything  at  all?" 

"She  has  been  on  the  street  twice  in  her  life  that  she 
knows  of,"  answered  Douglas.  "It  will  be  kind  of  you 
to  take  her,  and  cure  her  if  it  can  be  done,  but  you'll  have 
to  consult  Mickey.  She  is  his  find,  so  he  claims  her, 
belligerently,  I  might  warn  you!" 

"Claims  her!     He  has  her  ?"  marvelled  Leslie. 

"Surely!  In  his  room!  On  his  bed!  Taking  care  of 
her  himself,  and  doing  a  mighty  fine  job  of  it!  Best  she 
ever  had  I  am  quite  sure,"  said  Douglas. 

"But  Douglas!"  cried  Leslie  in  amazement. 

"'But  me  no  buts,'  my  lady!"  warned  Douglas.  "I 
know  what  you  would  say.  Save  it!  You  can't  do  any- 
thing that  way.  Mickey  is  right.  She  is  his.  He  found 
her  in  her  last  extremity,  in  rags,  on  the  floor  in  a  dark 
corner  of  an  attic.  He  carried  her  home  in  that  condition, 
to  a  clean  bed  his  mother  left  him.  Since,  he  has  been  her 
gallant  little  knight,  lying  on  the  floor  on  his  winter  bed- 
ding, feeding  her  first  and  most,  not  a  thought  for  himself. 
God,  Leslie!  I  don't  stand  for  anything  coming  between 
Mickey  and  his  child,  his  'family'  he  calls  her.  He's  the 
biggest  small  specimen  I  ever  have  seen.  I'll  fight  his 
cause  in  any  court  in  the  country,  if  his  right  to  her  is 
questioned,  as  it  will  be  the  minute  she  is  taken  to  a  sur- 
geon or  a  hospital." 

"How  old  is  she?"  asked  Leslie. 

"Neither  of  them  knows.     About  ten,  I  should  think." 

"How  has  he  managed  to  keep  her  hidden  this  long?" 


300  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"He  lives  in  an  attic.  The  first  woman  he  tried  to 
get  help  from  started  the  Home  question,  and  frightened 
him;  so  he  appealed  to  a  nurse  he  met  through  being  con- 
nected with  an  accident;  she  gave  him  supplies,  instruc- 
tions and  made  Lily  gowns." 

"But  why  didn't  she ?"  began  Leslie. 

"She  may  have  thought  the  child  was  his  sister,"  said 
Douglas.  "She's  the  loveliest  little  thing,  Leslie!" 

"Very  little?  "asked  Leslie. 

"Tiny  is  the  word,"  said  Douglas.  "It's  the  prettiest 
sight  I  ever  saw  to  watch  him  wait  on  her,  and  to  see 
her  big,  starved,  scared  eyes  follow  him  with  adoring 
trust." 

"Adoration  on  both  sides,  then,"  laughed  Leslie. 

"You  imply  I'm  selecting  too  big  words,"  said  Douglas. 
"Wait  till  you  see  her,  and  see  them  together." 

"It's  a  problem!"  said  Leslie. 

"Yes,  I  admit  that!"  conceded  Douglas,  "but  it  isn't 
your  problem." 

"But  they  can't  go  on  that  way!"  cried  Leslie. 

"I  grant  that,"  said  Douglas.  "All  I  stipulate  is  that 
Mickey  shall  be  left  to  plan  their  lives  himself,  and  in  a 
way  that  makes  him  happy." 

"That's  only  fair  to  him!"  said  Leslie. 

"Now  you  are  grasping  and  assimilating  the  situation 
properly,"  commented  Douglas. 

When  they  returned  to  the  cabin  they  found  Mr.  Winton 
stretched  in  a  hammock  smoking.  Douglas  took  a  blan- 
ket and  Leslie  a  cushion  on  the  steps,  while  all  of  them 
watched  the  moon  pass  slowly  across  Atwater. 


FEMININE  REASONING  301 

"How  are  you  progressing  with  the  sinners  of  Multiop- 
olis?"  asked  Mr.  Winton  of  Douglas. 

"Fine!"  he  answered.  "I've  found  what  I  think  will 
turn  out  to  be  a  big  defalcation.  Somebody  drops  out  in 
disgrace  with  probably  a  penitentiary  sentence." 

"Oh  Douglas!     How  can  you?"  cried  Leslie. 

"How  can  a  man  live  in  luxury- when  he  is  stealing  other 
people's  money  to  pay  the  bills?"  he  retorted. 

"Yes  I  know,  but  Douglas,  I  wish  you  would  buy  this 
place  and  plow  corn,  or  fish  for  a  living." 

"Sometimes  I  have  an  inkling  that  before  I  finish  with 
this  I  shall  wish  so  too,"  replied  he. 

"What  do  you  think,  Daddy?"  asked  Leslie. 

"I  think  the  'way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard,'  and  that 
as  always  he  pays  in  the  end.  Go  ahead  son,  but  let  me 
know  before  you  reach  my  office  or  any  of  my  men.  I 
hope  I  have  my  department  in  perfect  order,  but  some- 
times a  man  gets  a  surprise." 

"Of  course!"  agreed  Douglas.  "Look  at  that  water, 
will  you?  Just  beyond  that  ragged  old  sycamore!  That 
fellow  must  have  been  a  whale.  Isn't  this  great?" 

"The  best  of  life,"  said  Mr.  Winton,  stooping  to  kiss 
Leslie  as  he  said  good-night  to  both. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
A  SAFE  PROPOSITION 

WHEN  Mickey  posted  his  letter,  in  deep  thought 
he  slowly  walked  home.  That  night  his  eyes 
closed  with  a  feeling  of  relief.  He  was  certain 
that  when  Peter  and  his  wife  and  children  talked  over  the 
plan  he  had  suggested  they  would  be  anxious  to  have  such 
a  nice  girl  as  Lily  in  their  home  for  a  week.  He  even  went 
so  far  as  the  vague  thought  that  if  they  kept  her  until  fall, 
they  never  would  be  able  to  give  her  up,  and  possibly  she 
could  remain  with  them  until  he  could  learn  whether  her 
back  could  be  cured,  and  make  arrangements  suitable  for 
her.  In  his  heart  he  felt  sure  that  Mr.  Bruce  or  Miss 
Leslie  would  help  him  take  care  of  her,  but  he  had  strong 
objections  to  them.  He  thought  the  country  with  its 
clean  air,  birds,  flowers  and  quiet  the  best  place  for  her;  if 
he  allowed  them  to  take  her,  she  would  be  among  luxuries 
which  would  make  all  he  could  do  unappreciated. 

"She  wasn't  born  to  things  like  that;  what's  the  use  to 
spoil  her  with  them?"  he  argued.  "Course  they  haven't 
spoiled  Miss  Leslie,  but  she  wasn't  a  poor  kid  to  start  on, 
and  she  has  a  father  to  take  care  of  her,  and  Mr.  Bruce. 
Lily  has  only  me  and  I'm  going  to  manage  my  family  my- 
self. Pretty  soon  those  nice  folks  will  come,  and  if  she 
likes  them,  maybe  I'll  let  them  take  her  'til  it's  cooler." 

3<DZ 


A  SAFE  PROPOSITION  303 

Mickey  had  thought  they  would  come  soon,  but  he  had 
not  supposed  it  would  be  the  following  day.  He  went 
downtown  early,  spent  some  time  drilling  his  protege  in 
the  paper  business,  and  had  the  office  ready  when  Douglas 
Bruce  arrived  an  hour  late.  During  that  hour,  Mickey's 
call  came.  He  made  an  appointment  to  meet  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Peter  Harding  at  Marsh  &  Jordan's  at  four 
o'clock. 

"Peter  must  have  wanted  to  see  her  so  bad  he  quit 
plowing  to  come,"  commented  Mickey,  as  he  hung  up  the 
receiver.  "He  couldn't  have  finished  that  field  last  night! 
They're  just  crazy  to  see  Lily,  and  when  they  do,  they'll  be 
worse  yet;  but  of  course  they  wouldn't  want  to  take  her 
from  me,  'cause  they  got  three  of  their  own.  I  guess  Peter 
is  the  safest  proposition  I  know.  Course  he  wouldn't  ever 
put  a  little  flowersy-girl  in  any  old  Orphings'  Home.  Sure 
he  wouldn't!  He  wouldn't  put  his  own  there,  course  he 
wouldn't  mine!" 

"Mickey,  what  do  you  think?"  asked  Douglas  as  he 
entered.  "I've  moved  to  the  country!" 

Mickey  stared.  Then  came  his  slow  comment:  "Gee! 
The  cows  an'  the  clover  gets  all  of  us!" 

"I  can  beat  that,"  said  Douglas.  "I'm  going  to  live 
beside  a  lake  where  I  can  swim  every  night  and  morning, 
and  catch  big  bass,  and  live  on  strawberries  from  the  vines 
and  cream  straight  from  the  cow " 

"I  thought  you'd  get  to  the  cow  before  long." 

"And  you  are  invited  to  go  out  with  me  as  often  as  you 
want  to,  and  you  may  arrange  to  have  Lily  out  too !  Won't 
that  be  fine?" 


304  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Mickey  hesitated  while  his  eyes  grew  speculative,  before 
he  answered  with  his  ever  ready:  "Sure!" 

"Miss  Winton  made  a  plan  for  her  father  and  me,"  ex- 
plained Douglas.  "She  knew  we  would  lose  our  vacations 
this  summer,  so  she  took  an  old  cabin  on  Atwater,  and 
moved  out.  We  are  to  go  back  and  forth  each  morning 
and  evening.  I  never  was  at  the  lake  before,  but  it's  not 
far  from  the  club  house  and  it's  beautiful.  I  think  most  of 
all  I  shall  enjoy  the  swimming  and  fishing." 

"I  haven't  had  experience  with  water  enough  to  swim 
in,"  said  Mickey.  "A  tub  has  been  my  limit.  You'll 
have  a  fine  time  all  right,  and  thank  you  for  asking  me.  I 
think  Miss  Winton  is  great.  Ain't  it  funny  how  many 
fine  folks  there  are  in  the  world  ?  'Most  every  one  I  meet 
is  too  nice  for  any  use;  but  I  don't  know  any  Swell  Dames, 
my  people  are  just  common  folks." 

"You  wouldn't  call  Miss  Winton  a  'Swell  Dame,' 
then?" 

"Well  I  should  say  nix!"  cried  Mickey.  "You  wouldn't 
catch  her  motoring  away  to  a  party  and  leaving  her  baby 
to  be  slapped  and  shook  out  of  its  breath  by  a  mad  nurse- 
lady,  'cause  she  left  it  herself  where  the  sun  hurt  its  eyes. 
She  wouldn't  put  a  little  girl  that  couldn't  walk  in  any 
Orphings'  Home  where  no  telling  what  might  happen  to 
her!  She'd  fix  her  a  Precious  Child  and  take  her  for  a  ride 
in  her  car  and  be  careful  with  her." 

"Are  you  quite  sure  about  that  Mickey?" 

"Surest  thing  you  know,"  said  Mickey  emphatically. 
"Why  look  her  straight  in  the  eyes,  and  you  can  tell.  I 
saw  her  coming  away  down  the  street,  and  the  minute  I 


A  SAFE  PROPOSITION  305 

got  my  peepers  on  her  I  picked  her  for  a  winner.  I  guess 
you  did  too/' 

"I  certainly  did,"  said  Douglas.  "But  it  is  most  im- 
portant that  I  be  perfectly  sure,  so  I  should  like  to  have 
your  approval  of  my  choice." 

"I  guess  you're  kidding  now,"  ventured  Mickey. 

"No,  I'm  in  earnest,"  said  Douglas  Bruce.  "You  see 
Mickey,  as  I  have  said  before,  your  education  and  mine 
have  been  different,  but  yours  is  equally  valuable." 

"What  shall  I  do  now?  'Scuse  me,  I  mean — what  do  I 
mean?"  asked  Mickey. 

"To  wait  until  I'm  ready  for  you,"  suggested  Douglas. 

"Sure!"  conceded  Mickey.  "It's  because  I'm  used  to 
hopping  so  lively  on  the  streets." 

"Do  you  miss  the  streets?"  inquired  Douglas. 

"Well  not  so  much  as  I  thought  I  would,"  said  Mickey, 
"'sides  in  a  way  I'm  still  on  the  job,  but  I  guess  I'll  get 
Henry's  boy  so  he  can  go  it  all  right.  He  seems  to  be 
doing  fairly  well;  so  does  the  old  man." 

"Have  you  got  him  in  training  too?"  asked  Douglas. 

"Oh  it's  his  mug,"  explained  Mickey  impatiently. 
"S'pose  you  do  own  a  grouch,  what's  the  use  of  displaying 
it  in  your  show  window?  Those  things  are  dangerous. 
They're  contagious.  Seeing  a  fellow  on  the  street  looking 
like  he'd  never  smile  again,  makes  other  folks  think  of 
their  woes,  so  pretty  soon  everybody  gets  sorry  for  them- 
selves. I'd  like  to  see  the  whole  world  happy." 

"Mickey,  what  makes  you  so  happy  to-day?" 

"I  scent  somepin'  nice  in  the  air,"  said  Mickey.  "I 
hear  the  rumble  of  the  joy  wagon  coming  my  way." 


3o4  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Mickey  hesitated  while  his  eyes  grew  speculative,  before 
he  answered  with  his  ever  ready:  "Sure!" 

"Miss  Winton  made  a  plan  for  her  father  and  me,"  ex- 
plained Douglas.  "She  knew  we  would  lose  our  vacations 
this  summer,  so  she  took  an  old  cabin  on  Atwater,  and 
moved  out.  We  are  to  go  back  and  forth  each  morning 
and  evening.  I  never  was  at  the  lake  before,  but  it's  not 
far  from  the  club  house  and  it's  beautiful.  I  think  most  of 
all  I  shall  enjoy  the  swimming  and  fishing." 

"I  haven't  had  experience  with  water  enough  to  swim 
in,"  said  Mickey.  "A  tub  has  been  my  limit.  You'll 
have  a  fine  time  all  right,  and  thank  you  for  asking  me.  I 
think  Miss  Winton  is  great.  Ain't  it  funny  how  many 
fine  folks  there  are  in  the  world  ?  'Most  every  one  I  meet 
is  too  nice  for  any  use;  but  I  don't  know  any  Swell  Dames, 
my  people  are  just  common  folks." 

"You  wouldn't  call  Miss  Winton  a  'Swell  Dame,' 
then?" 

"Well  I  should  say  nix!"  cried  Mickey.  "You  wouldn't 
catch  her  motoring  away  to  a  party  and  leaving  her  baby 
to  be  slapped  and  shook  out  of  its  breath  by  a  mad  nurse- 
lady,  'cause  she  left  it  herself  where  the  sun  hurt  its  eyes. 
She  wouldn't  put  a  little  girl  that  couldn't  walk  in  any 
Orphings'  Home  where  no  telling  what  might  happen  to 
her!  She'd  fix  her  a  Precious  Child  and  take  her  for  a  ride 
in  her  car  and  be  careful  with  her." 

"Are  you  quite  sure  about  that  Mickey?" 

"Surest  thing  you  know,"  said  Mickey  emphatically. 
"Why  look  her  straight  in  the  eyes,  and  you  can  tell.  I 
saw  her  coming  away  down  the  street,  and  the  minute  I 


"M, 


A  SAFE  PROPOSITION  305 

got  my  peepers  on  her  I  picked  her  for  a  winner.     I  guess 
you  did  too." 

"I  certainly  did,"  said  Douglas.  "But  it  is  most  im- 
portant that  I  be  perfectly  sure,  so  I  should  like  to  have 
your  approval  of  my  choice." 

I  guess  you're  kidding  now,"  ventured  Mickey. 
No,  I'm  in  earnest,"  said  Douglas  Bruce.     "You  see 
Mickey,  as  I  have  said  before,  your  education  and  mine 
have  been  different,  but  yours  is  equally  valuable." 

"What  shall  I  do  now?  'Scuse  me,  I  mean — what  do  I 
mean?"  asked  Mickey. 

"To  wait  until  I'm  ready  for  you,"  suggested  Douglas. 

"Sure!"  conceded  Mickey.  "It's  because  I'm  used  to 
hopping  so  lively  on  the  streets." 

"Do  you  miss  the  streets?"  inquired  Douglas. 

"Well  not  so  much  as  I  thought  I  would,"  said  Mickey, 
"'sides  in  a  way  I'm  still  on  the  job,  but  I  guess  I'll  get 
Henry's  boy  so  he  can  go  it  all  right.  He  seems  to  be 
doing  fairly  well;  so  does  the  old  man." 

"Have  you  got  him  in  training  too?"  asked  Douglas. 

"Oh  it's  his  mug,"  explained  Mickey  impatiently. 
''S'pose  you  do  own  a  grouch,  what's  the  use  of  displaying 
it  in  your  show  window?  Those  things  are  dangerous. 
They're  contagious.  Seeing  a  fellow  on  the  street  looking 
like  he'd  never  smile  again,  makes  other  folks  think  of 
their  woes,  so  pretty  soon  everybody  gets  sorry  for  them- 
selves. I'd  like  to  see  the  whole  world  happy." 

"Mickey,  what  makes  you  so  happy  to-day?" 

"I  scent  somepin'  nice  in  the  air,"  said  Mickey.  "I 
hear  the  rumble  of  the  joy  wagon  coming  my  way." 


3o6  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"  You  surely  look  it,"  declared  Douglas.  "  It's  a  mighty 
fine  thing  to  be  happy.  I  am  especially  thinking  that,  be- 
cause it  looks  like  this  last  batch  you  brought  me  has  a  bad 
dose  in  it  for  a  man  I  know.  He  won't  be  happy  when  he 
sees  his  name  in  letters  an  inch  high  on  the  front  page  of 
the  Herald." 

"No,  he  won't,"  agreed  Mickey,  his  face  dulling. 
"That  comes  in  my  line.  I've  seen  men  forced  to  take  it 
right  on  the  cars.  Open  a  paper,  slide  down,  turn  white, 
shiver,  then  take  a  brace  and  try  to  sit  up  and  look  like 
they  didn't  care,  when  you  could  see  it  was  all  up  with 
them.  Gee,  it's  tough !  I  wish  we  were  in  other  business." 

"But  what  about  the  men  who  work  hard  for  their 
money,  not  to  mince  matters,  that  these  men  you  are 
pitying  steal?"  asked  Douglas. 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  Mickey.  " But  there's  a  big  bunch 
of  taxpayers,  so  it  doesn't  hit  any  one  so  hard.  It's  tough 
on  them,  but  honest,  Mr.  Bruce,  it  ain't  as  tough  to  lose 
your  coin  as  it  is  to  lose  your  glad  face.  You  can  earn 
more  money  or  slide  along  without  so  much;  but  once  you 
get  the  slick,  shamed  look  on  your  show  window,  you 
can't  ever  wash  it  off.  Since  your  face  is  what  your 
friends  know  you  by,  it's  an  awful  pity  to  spoil  it." 

"That's  so  too,  Mickey,"  laughed  Bruce,  "but  keep 
this  clearly  in  your  mind.  I'm  not  spoiling  any  one's  face. 
If  any  man  loses  his  right  to  look  his  neighbour  frankly  in 
the  eye,  from  the  job  we're  on,  it  is  his  fault,  not  ours.  If 
men  have  lived  straight  we  can't  find  defalcations  in  their 
books,  can  we?" 

"Nope,"  agreed  Mickey.     "Just  the  same  I  wish  we 


A  SAFE  PROPOSITION  307 

were  plowing  corn,  'stead  of  looking  for  them.  That 
plowing  job  is  awful  nice.  I  watched  a  man  the  other  day, 
the  grandest  big  bunch  of  bone  and  muscle,  driving  a  team 
it  took  a  gladiator  to  handle.  First  time  I  ever  saw  it 
done  at  close  range  and  it  got  me.  He  looked  like  a  man 
you'd  want  to  tie  to  and  stick  'til  the  war  is  over.  If  he 
ever  has  a  case  he  is  going  to  bring  it  to  you.  But  where 
he'll  get  a  case  out  there  ten  miles  from  anybody,  with  the 
bluest  sky  you  ever  saw  over  his  head,  and  black  fields 
under  his  feet,  and  clover  and  cows  on  one  side,  and  sheep 
and  meadows  on  the  other,  I  can't  see.  Yes,  I  wish  we 
were  plowing  for  corn  'stead  of  trouble." 

"You  little  dunce,"  laughed  Douglas.  "We'd  make  a 
fortune  plowing  corn." 

"What's  the  difference  how  much  you  make  if  some- 
thing black  keeps  ki-yi-ing  at  your  heels  'bout  how  you 
make  it  ? "  asked  Mickey. 

"There's  a  good  strong  kick  in  my  heels,  and  the  'ki-yi- 
ing'  is  for  the  feet  of  the  man  I'm  after." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  Mickey,  "but  'fore  we  get  through 
with  this  I  just  got  a  hunch  that  you'll  wish  we  had  been 
plowing  corn,  too." 

"What  makes  you  so  sure,  Mickey?"  said  Douglas. 

"Oh  things  I  hear  men  say  when  I  get  the  books  keep 
me  thinking,"  replied  Mickey. 

"What  things?"  queried  Douglas. 

"Oh  about  who's  going  to  get  the  axe  next!"  said 
Mickey. 

"But  what  of  that?"  asked  Douglas. 

"Why  it  might  be  somebody  you  know!"  he  ^ried. 


3o8  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"When  you  find  these  wrong  entries  you  can't  tell  who 
made  them." 

"I  know  that  the  man  who  made  them  deserves  what 
he  gets,"  said  Douglas. 

"Yes,  I  guess  he  does,"  agreed  Mickey.  "Well  go  on! 
But  when  I  grow  up  I'm  going  to  plow  corn." 

"What  about  the  poetry?"  queried  Douglas. 

"They  go  together  fine,"  explained  Mickey.  "When 
the  book  is  finished,  I'd  like  clover  on  the  cover  better 
than  the  cow;  but  if  Lily  wants  the  live  stock  it  goes!" 

"Of  course,"  assented  Douglas.  "But  when  she  sees  a 
real  cow  she  may  change  her  mind." 

"  Right  in  style!  Ladies  do  it  often,"  conceded  Mickey. 
"I've  seen  them  so  changeful  they  couldn't  tell  when  they 
called  a  taxi  where  they  wanted  to  be  taken." 

"Mickey,  your  observations  on  human  nature  would 
make  a  better  book  than  your  poetry." 

"Oh  I  don't  know,"  said  Mickey.  "You  see  I  ain't 
really  got  at  the  poetry  job  yet.  I  have  to  be  educated  a 
lot  to  do  it  right.  What  I  do  now  I  wouldn't  show  to 
anybody  else,  it's  just  fooling  for  Lily.  But  I  got  an  ad- 
dress that  gives  me  a  look-in  on  the  paper  business  if  I 
ever  want  it.  I  ain't  got  at  the  poetry  yet,  but  I  been  on 
the  human-nature  job  from  the  start.  When  you  go  cold 
and  hungry  if  you  don't  know  human  nature — why  you 
know\t,  that's  all!" 

"You  surely  do,"  said  Douglas.  •  "Now  let's  hustle  this 
forenoon,  and  then  you  may  have  the  remainder  of  the 
day.  I  am  going  fishing." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Mickey,  "I  hope  you  get  a  bass 


A  SAFE  PROPOSITION  309 

as  long  as  your  arm,  and  I  hope  the  man  you  are  chas- 
ing breaks  his  neck  before  you  get  him." 

Mickey  grinned  at  Douglas'  laugh,  and  went  racing 
about  his  work,  then  he  helped  on  his  paper  route  until 
four,  when  he  hurried  to  his  meeting  with  Nancy  and 
Peter. 

"When  everybody  is  so  nice  if  you  give  them  any  show 
at  all,  I  can't  understand  where  the  grouchers  get  their 
grouch,"  muttered  Mickey,  as  he  hopped  from  one  toe  to 
the  other  and  tried  to  select  the  car  at  the  curb  which 
would  be  Peter's. 

"Hey  you!"  presently  called  a  voice  from  one  of  them. 
Mickey  sent  a  keen  glance  over  a  boy  who  had  come  up  and 
entered  the  car. 

"Straw  you!"  retorted  Mickey,  landing  on  the  curb  in  a 
flying  leap. 

"Is  your  name  Mickey?"  inquired  the  boy. 

"Yep.     Is  your  father's  name  Peter?"  asked  Mickey. 

"Yep.  And  mine  is  Peter  too.  So  to  avoid  two 
Peters  I  am  Junior.  Come  on  in  'til  the  folks  come." 

Formalities  were  over.  Mickey  laughed  as  he  entered 
the  car  and  straightway  began  an  investigation  of  its 
machinery.  Now  any  boy  is  proud  to  teach  another 
something  he  wants  to  know  and  does  not,  so  by  the  time 
the  car  was  thoroughly  explained  any  listener  would  have 
thought  them  acquaintances  from  birth. 

"  Hurry ! "  cried  Junior  when  his  parents  came.  "  I  want 
to  get  home  with  Mickey.  I  want  him  to  show  me — 

"Don't  you  hurry  your  folks,  Junior,"  said  Mickey, 
"I'll  show  you  all  right!" 


3io  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Well  it's  about  time  I  was  seeing  something." 

"Sure  it  is,"  agreed  Mickey.  "Come  on  with  me  here, 
and  I'll  show  you  what  real  boys  are!" 

"Say  father,  I'm  coming  you  know,"  cried  Junior. 
"I'm  tired  poking  in  the  country.  Just  look  what  being 
in  the  city  has  made  of  Mickey." 

"Yes,  just  look!"  cried  Mickey,  waving  both  hands 
and  bracing  on  feet  wide  apart.  "Do  look!  Your  age 
or  more,  and  about  half  your  beefsteak  and  bone." 

"But  you  got  muscle.  I  bet  I  couldn't  throw 
you!" 

"I  bet  you  couldn't  either,"  retorted  Mickey,  "'cause 
I  survived  Multiopolis  by  being  Johnny  not  on  the  spot! 
I've  dodged  for  my  life  and  my  living  since  I  can  remem- 
ber. I'm  champeen  on  that.  But  you  come  on  with  me, 
and  I'll  get  you  a  job  and  let  you  try  yourself." 

"I'm  coming,"  said  Junior.  Then  remembering  he  was 
not  independent  he  turned  to  his  mother.  "Can't  I  take 
a  job  and  work  here  ? " 

Mrs.  Harding  braced  herself  and  succumbed  to  habit. 
"That  will  be  as  your  father  says." 

Junior  turned  toward  his  father,  doubt  in  his  eye,  to 
receive  a  shock.  There  was  not  a  trace  of  surprise  or  dis- 
approval on  the  face  of  Peter. 

"Now  maybe  that  would  be  the  best  way  in  the  world 
for  you  to  help  me  out,"  he  said.  "You  see  me  through 
planting  and  harvest  and  then  I'll  arrange  to  spare  you, 
and  you  can  see  how  you  like  it  till  fall.  But  of  course 
you  are  too  young  yet  to  give  up  school.  I  don't  agree  to 
interrupting  your  education.  I  don't  want  the  kind  of  a 


A  SAFE  PROPOSITION  311 

numbskull  on  my  hands  who  thinks  Christopher  Colum- 
bus signed  the  Declaration  of  Independence." 

Mrs.  Harding  entered  the  car.  "Now  Mickey/'  she 
said  as  she  distributed  parcels,  "you  sit  up  there  with 
Peter  and  show  him  the  way,  and  we  will  go  see  if  we  want 
to  undertake  the  care  of  your  little  girl  for  a  week/* 

"Drop  the  anchor,  furl  the  sail,  right  here,"  directed 
Mickey  when  they  reached  Sunrise  Alley.  "You  know  I 
told  you  dearest  lady,  about  how  scared  my  little  girl  is, 
having  seen  so  few  folks  and  not  expecting  you;  so  I'll  have 
to  ask  you  to  wait  a  few  minutes  'til  I  go  up  and  get  her 
used  to  your  being  here  and  then  I'll  have  to  sort  of  work 
her  up  to  you  one  at  a  time.  I  'spect  you  can't  hardly 
believe  that  there's  anything  in  all  the  world  so  small,  and 
so  white,  that's  lived  to  have  the  brains  she  has,  and  yet 
hasn't  seen  the  streets  of  this  city  but  for  a  short  ride  on  a 
street-car  twice  in  her  life,  and  for  all  I  know  hasn't  talked 
to  half  a  dozen  people.  She  may  take  you  for  a  bear, 
Peter;  you  will  be  quiet  and  easy,  won't  you?" 

"Why  Mickey,"  said  Peter,  "why  of  course  son!" 

Mickey  bounded  up  the  stairs  and  swung  wide  his  door. 
Again  the  awful  heat  hit  him  in  the  face.  He  swallowed 
a  mouthful,  hastily  shutting  the  door.  "It's  hard  on 
Lily,"  was  his  mental  comment,  "but  I  guess  I'll  just 
save  that  for  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peter.  I  think  a  few  gulps  of 
it  will  do  them  good;  it  will  show  them  better  than  talk- 
ing why,  once  she's  out  of  it,  she  shouldn't  come  back  'til 
cold  weather  at  least,  if  at  all.  Yes  I  guess ! " 
j<  "Most  baked  honey?"  he  asked,  taking  her  hot  hands. 

"Mickey,  'tain't  near  six,"  she  panted. 


3i2  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"No  it's  two  hours  early,"  said  Mickey.  "But  you 
know  Flowersy-girl,  I'm  going  to  take  care  of  you.  Now 
it's  getting  too  hot  for  you  here.  Don't  you  remember 
what  I  told  you  last  night  ? " 

"'Bout  laying  on  the  grass  an*  the  clover  flowers?" 

"Exactly  yes!"  said  Mickey.  "'Fore  we  melt  let's  roll 
up  in  this  sheet  and  go,  Lily!  What  do  you  say?" 

"Has — has  the  red-berry  folks  come?"  she  cried. 

"They're  downstairs,  Lily.     They're  waiting." 

Peaches  began  climbing  into  his  arms. 

"Mickey,  Mickey-lovest,  hold  me  tight,"  she  panted. 
"Mickey,  I'm  scart  just  God-damned!" 

"Wope!  Wope  lady!  None  of  that!"  cried  Mickey 
aghast.  "The  place  where  you're  going  there's  a  nice 
little  girl  that  never  said  such  a  word  in  all  her  life,  and 
if  she  did  her  mammy  would  wash  the  badness  out  of  her 
mouth  with  soap,  just  like  I'll  have  to  wash  out  yours,  if 
you  don't  watch.  You  can't  go  in  the  big  car,  being  held 
tight  by  me,  else  you  promise  cross  your  heart  never,  not 
never  to  say  that  again." 

"Mickey,  will  soapin'  take  it  out?"  wailed  Peaches. 

"Well  my  mammy  took  it  out  of  me  that  way!" 

"Mickey  get  the  soap,  an*  wash,  an*  scour  it  all  out 
now,  so's  I  can't  ever.  Mickey,  quick  before  the  nice  lady 
comes  that  has  flower  fields,  an'  red  berries,  an'  honey 
'lasses.  Mickey,  hurry!" 

"Oh  you  fool  little  sweet  kid,"  he  half  laughed,  half 
sobbed.  "You  fool  little  precious  child-kid — I  can't! 
There's  a  better  way.  I'll  just  put  on  a  kiss  so  tight  that 
no  bad  swearin's  wilJ  ever  pop  out  past  it.  There,  like 


A  SAFE  PROPOSITION  313 

that!     Now  you  won't  ever  say  one  'fore  the  nice  little 
girl,  and  when  I  want  you  not  to  so  bad,  will  you?" 

"Not  never  Mickey!     Not  never,  never,  never!" 

"The  folks  can't  wait  any  longer,"  said  Mickey.  "Here 
quick,  I'll  wash  your  face  and  comb  you,  and  get  a  clean 
nightie  on  you,  and  your  sweetest  ribbon." 

"Then  it's  pink,"  declared  Peaches  decidedly,  "an' 
Mickey,  make  me  a  pretty  girl,  so's  the  nice  lady  will  like 
me  to  drink  her  milk." 

"  Greedy ! "  said  Mickey.  "  How  can  I  make  you  pretty 
when  the  Lord  didn't!" 

"Ain't  I  pretty  any  at  all?"  queried  Peaches. 

"Mebby  you  would  be  if  you'd  fatten  up  a  little,"  said 
Mickey  judicially.  "Can't  anybody  be  pretty  that's  got 
bones  sticking  out  all  over  them." 

"Mickey,  is  the  girl  where  we  are  going  pretty?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Mickey.  "I  haven't  seen  her. 
She's  a  fine  little  girl,  for  she's  at  home  taking  care  of 
her  baby  brother  so's  that  her  mammy  can  come  and  see 
if  you  are  nice  enough  to  go  to  her  house  and  not  spoil  her 
children.  See?" 

Peaches  nodded  comprehendingly. 

"Mickey,  I  won't  again!"  she  insisted.  "I  said  not 
never,  never,  never.  Didn't  you  hear  me  ? " 

"Yes  I  heard  you,"  said  Mickey,  applying  the  wash- 
cloth, slipping  on  a  fresh  nightdress,  brushing  curls,  and 
tying  the  ribbon  with  fingers  shaking  with  excitement  and 
haste.  "Yes  I  heard  you,  but  that  stuff  seems  to  come 
awful  easy,  Miss.  You  got  to  be  careful  no  end.  Now, 
I'm  going  to  bring  them.  You  just  keep  still  and  smile 


3i6  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

vanced,  gazing  at  the  child  unconsciously  gasping  the 
stifling  air.  She  took  one  hurried  glance  at  the  room  in  its 
scrupulous  bareness,  with  waves  of  heat  from  miles  of 
city  roof  pouring  in  the  open  window,  and  bent  over 
Peaches. 

"Won't  you  come  out  of  this  awful  heat  quickly,  and  let 
us  carry  you  away  to  a  cool,  shady  place?  Dear  little 
girl,  don't  you  want  to  come?"  she  questioned. 

"Is  Mickey  coming  too?"  asked  Peaches. 

"Of  course  Mickey  is  coming  too!"  said  the  lady. 

"Will  he  hold  me?" 

"He  will  if  you  want  him  to,"  said  Mrs.  Harding,  "but 
Peter  is  so  much  bigger,  it  wouldn't  tire  him  a  mite." 

Mickey  shifted  on  his  feet  and  gazed  at  Peaches;  as  her 
eyes  sought  his,  the  message  he  telegraphed  her  was  so 
plain  that  she  caught  it  right. 

" Mickey  is  just  awful  strong,"  she  said.  "I'll  go  if  he'll 
hold  me.  But  I  want  to  see  Peter!  I  like  Peter!" 

"Why  you  darling!"  cried  the  nice  lady. 

"And  I  like  Junior,  that  Mickey  told  me  about,  and 
your  nice  little  girl  that  I  mustn't  ever,  never,  never  say 
no  sw " 

Mickey  promptly  applied  the  flat  of  his  hand  to  the  lips 
of  the  astonished  child. 

"And  you  like  the  little  girl  and  the  fat  toddly  baby " 

he  prompted. 

"Yes,"  agreed  Peaches  enthusiastically,  twisting  away 
her  head,  "and  I  like  the  milk  and  the  meat — gee,  I  like 
the  meaty  only  Mickey  wouldn't  give  me  but  a  tiny  speck 
'til  he  asked  the  Sunshine  Nurse  Lady." 


A  SAFE  PROPOSITION  31; 

"You  blessed  child!"  cried  Nancy  Harding.  "Call 
Peter  quickly!" 

Mickey  opened  the  door  swiftly,  he  was  still  conserving, 
heat,  and  signalled  Peter  and  Junior. 

"She  likes  you.  She  asked  for  you.  You  can  both 
come  at  once,"  he  announced,  holding  the  door  at  a  narrow 
crack  until  they  reached  it,  both  red  faced,  dripping,  and 
fanning  with  their  hats.  Peter  gasped  for  air. 

"My  God!  Has  any  living  child  been  cooped  in  this 
all  day?"  he  roared.  "Get  her  out!  Get  her  out  quick  I 
Get  her  out  first  and  talk  afterward.  This  will  give  her — • 
this  will  give  her  scarlet  fever!" 

A  shrill  shout  came  from  behind  the  intervening  lady 
who  arose  and  stepped  back  as  Peaches  raised  to  her  elbow, 
and  stretched  a  shaking  hand  toward  Peter. 

"Gee,  Peter!  You  get  your  mouth  soaped  out  first!"' 
she  cried.  "Gee,  Peter!  I  like  you,  Peter!" 

Peter  bent  over  her  and  then  stooping  to  her  level 
he  explored  her  with  astonished  eyes,  as  he  cried: 
"Why  child,  you  ain't  big  enough  for  an  exclamation 
point!" 

Peaches  didn't  know  what  an  exclamation  point  was, 
but  Mickey  did.  His  laugh  brought  him  again  into  her 
thought. 

"Mickey,  let's  beat  it!  Take  me  quick!"  she  panted. 
"Take  me  first  and  talk  afterward.  Mickey,  we  just  love 
these  nice  people,  let's  go  drink  their  milk,  and  eat  their 
red  berries." 

"Well  Miss  Chicken!"  said  Mickey  turning  a  dull  red. 

The  Harding  family  were  laughing. 


3i8  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"All  right,  everybody  move,"  said  Peter.  "What  do 
you  want  to  take  with  you  Mickey?" 

"That  basket  there,"  he  said.  "And  that  box,  you 
take  that  Junior,  and  you  take  the  Precious  Child,  and 
the  slate  and  the  books  dearest  lady — and  I'll  take  my 
family;  but  I  ain't  so  sure  about  this,  lady.  She's  sweaty 
now,  and  riding  is  the  coolingest  thing  you  can  do.  We 
mustn't  make  her  sick.  She  must  be  well  wrapped." 

"Why  she  couldn't  take  cold  to-day "  began  Peter. 

"You  and  Junior  shoulder  your  loads  and  go  right  down 
to  the  car,"  said  Mrs.  Harding.  "Mickey  and  I  will  man- 
age this.  He  is  exactly  right  about  it.  To  be  taken  from 
such  heat  to  the  conditions  of  motoring  might " 

"Sure!"  interposed  Mickey,  dreading  the  next  word  for 
the  memories  it  would  awaken  in  the  child's  heart.  "Sure! 
You  two  go  ahead !  We'll  come  in  no  time ! " 

"  But  I'm  not  going  to  lug  a  basket  and  have  a  little  chap 
like  you  carrying  a  child.  You  take  this  and  I'll  take  the 
baby!" 

Mickey's  wireless  went  into  instant  action  so  Peaches 
promptly  rebelled. 

"I  ain't  no  baby!"  she  said.  "Miss  Leslie  Moonshine 
Lady  sent  me  her  hair  ribbons  and  I  'spect  she's  been  cry- 
ing for  them  back  every  day;  and  my  name  what  granny 
named  me  is  Peaches,  so  there!" 

"Corrected!  Beg  pardon!"  said  Peter.  "Miss  Peaches, 
may  I  have  the  honour  of  carrying  you  to  the  car?" 

"Nope,"  said  Peaches  with  finality.  "Nobody,  not 
nobody  whatever,  not  the  biggest,  millyingairest  nobody 
alive  can't  ever  carry  me,  nelse  Mickey  says  they  can,  and 


A  SAFE  PROPOSITION  319 

he  is  away  off  on  the  cars.  I  like  you  Peter!  I  just  like 
you  heaps;  but  I'm  Mickey's,  so  I  got  to  do  what  he  says 
'cause  he  makes  me,  jes  like  he  ort,  and  nobody  can't  ever, 
not  ever  tend  me  like  Mickey." 

"So  that's  the  ticket!"  mused  Peter. 

"Yes,  that's  the  ticket,"  repeated  Peaches.  "I  ain't 
heavy.  Mickey  carried  me  up,  down  is  easier." 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "7  take  my  own  family.  You 
take  yours.  We'll  be  there  in  a  minute." 

Peter  and  Junior  disappeared  with  thankfulness  and 
speed.  Mrs.  Harding  and  Mickey  wrapped  Peaches  in 
the  sheet  and  took  along  a  comfort  for  shelter  from  the 
air  stirred  by  motion.  Steadying  his  arm,  which  he  wished 
she  would  not,  they  descended.  Did  she  think  he  wanted 
Peaches  to  suppose  he  couldn't  carry  her?  He  ran  down 
the  last  flight  to  show  her,  frightening  her  into  protest,  and 
had  the  reward  of  a  giggle  against  his  neck  and  the  tighten- 
ing of  small  arms  clinging  to  him.  He  settled  in  the  car 
and  without  heeding  Peter,  wrapped  Lily  in  the  comfort 
until  she  had  only  a  small  peep  of  daylight. 

Mickey  knew  from  Peaches'  laboured  breathing  and  the 
grip  of  her  hands  how  agitated  she  was;  but  as  the  car 
glided  smoothly  along,  driven  skilfully  by  mentality, 
guided  by  the  controlling  thought  of  a  tiny  lame  back,  she 
became  easier  and  clutched  less  frantically.  He  kept  the 
comfort  over  her  head.  She  had  enough  to  make  the 
change,  to  see  so  many  strangers  all  at  once,  without  being 
excited  by  having  her  attention  called  to  unfamiliar  things 
that  would  bewilder  and  positively  frighten  her. 

Mickey  stoutly  clung  to  a  load  that  soon  grew  noticeably 


320  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

heavy;  while  over  and  over  he  repeated  in  his  heart  with 
fortifying  intent:  "She  is  my  family,  I'll  take  care  of  her. 
I'll  let  them  keep  her  a  while  because  it  is  too  hot  for  her 
there,  but  they  shan't  boss  her,  and  they  got  to  know  it 
first  off,  and  they  shan't  take  her  from  me,  and  they  got 
to  understand  it." 

Right  at  that  point  Mickey's  grip  tightened  until  the 
child  in  his  arms  shivered  with  delight  of  being  so  enfolded 
in  her  old  and  only  security.  She  turned  her  head  to  work 
her  face  level  with  the  comfort  and  whisper  in  chortling, 
glee:  "Mickey,  we  are  going  just  stylish  like  millyingaire 
folks,  ain't  we?" 

"You  just  bet  we  are!"  he  whispered  back. 

"Mickey,  you  wouldn't  let  them  'get'  me,  would  you?'* 

"Not  on  your  life!"  said  Mickey,  gripping  her  closer. 

"And  Peter  wouldn't  let  them  'get'  me?" 

"No,  Peter  would  just  wipe  them  clear  off  the  slate  if 
they  tried  to  get  you,"  comforted  Mickey.  "We're  in  the 
country  now  Lily.  Nobody  will  even  think  of  you  away 
out  here." 

"Mickey,  I  want  to  see  the  country!"  said  Peaches. 

"No  Miss!  I'm  scared  now,"  replied  Mickey.  "It  was 
awful  hot  there  and  it's  lots  cooler  here,  even  slow  and  care- 
ful as  Peter  is  driving.  If  you  get  all  excitement,  and  rear- 
ing around,  and  take  a  chill,  and  your  back  gets  worse,  just 
when  we  have  such  a  grand  good  chance  to  make  it  better 
— you  duck  and  lay  low,  and  if  you're  good,  and  going  out 
doesn't  make  you  sick,  after  supper  when  you  rest  up, 
maybe  I'll  let  you  have  a  little  peepy  yellow  chicken  in 
your  hand  to  hold  a  minute,  and  maybe  I'll  let  you  see  a 


A  SAFE  PROPOSITION  321 

cow.  I  guess  you'd  give  a  good  deal  to  see  the  cow  that's 
going  on  your  book,  wouldn't  you?" 

Peaches  snuggled  down  in  pure  content  and  proved  her 
femininity  as  she  did  every  day.  "Yes.  But  when  I  see 
them,  maybe  l\\  like  a  chicken  better,  and  put  it  on." 

"All  right  with  me,"  agreed  Mickey.  "You  just  hold 
still  so  this  doesn't  make  you  sick,  and  to-morrow  you 
can  see  things  when  you  are  all  nice  and  rested." 

"Mickey,"  she  whispered. 

Mickey  bent  and  what  he  heard  buried  his  face  against 
Peaches'  a  second  and  when  lifted  it  radiated  a  shining- 
glory-light,  for  she  had  whispered:  "Mickey,  I'm  going 
to  always  mind  you  and  love  you  best  of  anybody." 

Because  she  had  expected  the  trip  to  result  in  the  bring- 
ing home  of  the  child,  Mrs.  Harding  had  made  ready  a  low 
folding  davenport  in  her  first-floor  bedroom,  beside  a 
window  where  grass,  birds  and  trees  were  almost  in  touch, 
and  where  it  would  be  convenient  to  watch  and  care  for 
her  visitor.  There  in  the  light,  pretty  room,  Mickey 
gently  laid  Peaches  down  and  said:  "Now  if  you'll  just 
give  me  time  to  get  her  rested  and  settled  a  little,  you  can. 
see  her  a  peep;  but  there  ain't  going  to  be  much  seeing  or 
talking  to-night.  If  she  has  such  a  lot  she  ain't  used  to 
and  gets  sick,  it  will  be  a  bad  thing  for  her,  and  all  of  us, 
so  we  better  just  go  slow  and  easy." 

"Right  you  are,  young  man,"  said  Peter.  "Come  out 
of  here  you  kids !  Come  to  the  back  yard  and  play  quietly. 
When  Little  White  Butterfly  gets  rested  and  fed,  we'll 
come  one  at  a  time  and  kiss  her  hand,  and  wish  her  pleas- 
ant dreams  with  us,  and  then  we'll  every  one  of  us  get 


322  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

down  on  our  knees  and  ask  God  to  help  us  take  such  good 
care  of  her  that  she  will  get  well  at  our  house.  I  can't 
think  of  anything  right  now  that  would  make  me  prouder." 

Mickey  suddenly  turned  his  back  on  them  and  tried 
to  swallow  the  lump  in  his  throat.  Then  he  arranged  his 
family  so  it  was  not  in  a  draft,  sponged  and  fed  it,  and 
failed  in  the  remainder  of  his  promise,  because  it  went  to 
sleep  with  the  last  bite  and  lay  in  deep  exhaustion.  So 
Mickey  smoothed  the  sheet,  slipped  off  the  ribbon,  brushed 
back  the  curls,  shaded  the  light,  marshalled  them  in  on 
tiptoe,  and  with  anxious  heart  studied  their  compassionate 
faces. 

Then  he  telephoned  Douglas  Bruce  to  ask  permission  to 
be  away  from  the  office  the  following  day,  and  ventured  as 
far  from  the  house  as  he  felt  he  dared  with  Junior;  but 
so  anxious  was  he  that  he  kept  in  sight  of  the  window. 
And  so  manly  and  tender  was  his  scrupulous  care,  so  tiny 
and  delicate  his  small  charge  as  she  lay  waxen,  lightly 
breathing  to  show  she  really  lived,  that  in  the  hearts  of  the 
Harding  family  grew  a  deep  respect  for  Mickey,  and  such 
was  their  trust  in  him,  that  when  he  folded  his  comfort  and 
stretched  it  on  the  floor  beside  the  child,  not  even  to  each 
ether  did  they  think  of  uttering  an  objection.  So  Peaches 
spent  her  first  night  in  the  country  breathing  clover  air, 
watched  constantly  by  her  staunch  protector,  and  carried 
to  the  foot  of  the  Throne  on  the  lips  of  one  entire  family; 
for  even  Bobbie  was  told  to  add  to  his  prayer:  "God  bless 
the  little  sick  girl,  and  make  her  well  at  our  house." 


M 


CHAPTER  XIV 
AN  ORPHANS'  HOME 

'r  ARGARET,  I  want  a  few  words  with  you  some 
time  soon,"  said  James  Minturn  to  his  sister. 
"Why  not  right]now?"  she  proposed.  "I'm 
not  busy  and  for  days  I've  known  you  were  in  trouble. 
Tell  me  at  once,  and  possibly  I  can  help  you." 

"You  would  deserve  my  gratitude  if  you  could,"  he 
said.  "I've  suffered  until  I'm  reduced  to  the  extremity 
that  drives  me  to  put  into  words  the  thing  I  have  thrashed 
over  in  my  heart  day  and  night  for  weeks." 

"Come  to  my  room  James,"  she  said. 

James  Minturn  followed  his  sister. 

"Now  go  on  and  tell  me,  boy,"  she  ordered.  "Of  course 
it's  about  Nellie." 

"Yes  it's  about  Nellie,"  he  repeated.  "Did  you  hear 
any  part  of  what  that  very  charming  young  lady  had  to 
say  to  me  at  our  chosen  playground,  not  long  ago  ? " 

"Yes  I  did,"  answered  Mrs.  Winslow.  "But  not 
enough  to  comprehend  thoroughly.  Did  she  convince 
you  that  you  are  mistaken  ? " 

"No.  But  this  she  did  do,"  said  Mr.  Minturn.  "She 
battered  the  walls  of  what  I  had  believed  to  be  unalter- 
able decision,  until  she  made  this  opening:  I  must  go 
into  our  affairs  again.  I  have  got  to  find  out  where  my 

323 


324  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

\vife  is,  and  what  she  is  doing;  and  if  the  things  Miss  Leslie 
thinks  are  true.  Margaret,  I  thought  it  was  settled.  I  was 
happy,  in  a  way;  actually  happy!  No  Biblical  miracle  ever 
seemed  to  me  half  so  wonderful  as  the  change  in  the  boys." 

"The  difference  in  them  is  quite  as  much  of  a  marvel 
as  you  think  it,"  agreed  Mrs.  Winslow. 

"It  is  greater  than  I  would  have  thought  possible  in 
any  circumstances,"  said  Mr.  Minturn.  "Do  they  ever 
mention  their  mother  to  you?" 

"Incidentally,"  she  replied,  "just  as  they  do  maids, 
footman  or  governess,  in  referring  to  their  past  life.  They 
never  ask  for  her,  in  the  sense  of  wanting  her,  that  I  know 
of.  Malcolm  resembles  her  in  appearance  and  any  one 
could  see  that  she  liked  him  best.  She  always  discrim- 
inated against  James  in  his  favour  if  any  question  be- 
tween them  were  ever  carried  to  her." 

"Malcolm  is  like  her  in  more  than  looks.  He  has  her 
musical  ability  in  a  marked  degree,"  said  Mr.  Minturn. 
"I  have  none,  but  Miss  Winton  suggested  a  thing  to  me 
that  Mr.  Tower  has  been  able  to  work  up  some,  and  while 
both  boys  are  deeply  interested,  it's  Malcolm  who  is  be- 
ginning to  slip  away  alone  and  listen  to  and  practise  bird 
cries  until  he  deceives  the  birds  themselves.  Yesterday 
he  called  a  catbird  to  within  a  few  feet  of  him,  by  repro- 
ducing the  notes  as  uttered  and  inflected  by  the  female." 

*T  know.     It  was  a  triumph!     He  told  me  about  it." 

"James  is  well  named,"  said  Mr.  Minturn.  "He  is  my 
boy.  Already  he's  beginning  to  ask  questions  that  are 
filled  with  intelligence,  solicitude  and  interest  about  my 
business,  what  things  mean,  what  I  am  doing,  and  why. 


AN  ORPHANS'  HOME  325 

He's  going  to  make  the  man  who  will  come  into  my  office, 
who  in  a  few  more  years  will  be  offering  his  shoulder  for 
part  of  my  load.  You  can't  understand  what  the  change 
is  from  the  old  attitude  of  regarding  me  as  worth  no  con- 
sideration; not  even  a  gentleman,  as  my  wife's  servants 
were  teaching  my  sons  to  think.  Margaret,  how  am  I 
going  back  even  to  the  thought  that  I  may  be  making 
a  mistake?  Wouldn't  the  unpardonable  error  be  to  again 
risk  those  boys  an  hour  in  the  company  and  influence 
which  brought  them  once  to  what  they  were?" 

"You  poor  soul!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Winslow. 

"Never  mind  that!"  warned  Mr.  Minturn.  "I'm  not 
accustomed  to  it,  and  it  doesn't  help.  Have  you  any 
faith  in  Nellie?" 

"None  whatever!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Winslow.  "She's 
so  selfish  it's  simply  fiendish.  I'd  as  soon  bury  you  as  to 
see  you  subject  to  her  again." 

"And  Fd  much  sooner  be  buried,  were  it  not  that  my 
heart  is  set  on  winning  out  with  those  boys,"  said  Mr. 
Minturn.  "There  is  material  for  fine  men  in  them,  but 
there  is  also  depravity  that  would  shock  you  inexpres- 
sibly, instilled  by  ignorant,  malicious  servants.  I  wish 
Leslie  Winton  had  kept  quiet." 

"And  so  do  I!"  agreed  Mrs.  Winslow.  "I  could 
scarcely  endure  it,  as  I  realized  what  was  going  on.  While 
Nellie  had  you,  there  was  no  indignity,  no  public  humilia- 
tion at  which  she  stopped.  For  my  own  satisfaction  I  ex- 
amined Elizabeth  before  she  was  laid  away,  and  I  held 
my  tongue  because  I  thought  you  didn't  know.  When 
did  you  find  out?" 


326  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"A  newsboy  told  me.  He  went  with  a  woman  who  was 
in  the  park  where  it  happened,  to  tell  Nellie,  but  they  were 
insulted  for  their  pains.  Some  way  my  best  friend  Doug- 
las Bruce  picked  him  up  and  attached  him,  as  I  did  Wil- 
liam; it  was  at  my  suggestion.  Of  course  I  couldn't 
imagine  that  out  of  several  thousand  newsies  Douglas 
would  select  the  one  who  knew  my  secret  and  who  daily 
blasts  me  with  his  scorn.  If  he  runs  into  an  elevator 
where  I  am,  the  whistle  dies  on  his  lips;  his  smile  fades 
and  he  actually  shrinks  from  my  presence.  You  can't 
blame  him.  A  man  should  be  able  to  protect  the  children  he 
fathers.  What  he  said  to  me  stunned  me  so,  he  thought 
me  indifferent.  In  my  place,  would  you  stop  him  some 
day  and  explain?" 

"I  most  certainly  would,"  said  Mrs.  Winslow.  "A 
child's  scorn  is  withering,  and  you  don't  deserve  it." 

"I  have  often  wondered  what  or  how  much  he  told 
Bruce,"  said  Mr.  Minturn. 

"Could  you  detect  any  change  in  Mr.  Bruce  after  the 
boy  came  into  his  office?"  asked  Mrs.  Winslow. 

"Only  that  he  was  kinder  and  friendlier  than  ever." 

"That  probably  means  that  the  boy  told  him  and  that 
Mr.  Bruce  understood  and  was  sorry." 

"No  doubt,"  he  said.  "You'd  talk  to  the  boy  then? 
Now  what  would  you  do  about  Nellie?" 

"What  was  it  Miss  Winton  thought  you  should  do?" 

"See  Nellie!  Take  her  back!"  he  exclaimed.  "Give 
her  further  opportunity  to  exercise  her  brand  of  wifehood 
on  me  and  motherhood  on  the  boys!" 

"James,  if  you  do,  I'll  never  forgive  you!"  cried  his 


AN  ORPHANS'  HOME  327 

sister.  "If  you  tear  up  this  comfortable,  healthful  place, 
where  you  are  the  honoured  head  of  your  house,  and  put 
your  boys  back  where  you  found  them,  I'll  go  home  and 
stay  there;  and  you  can't  blame  me." 

"Miss  Winton  didn't  ask  me  to  go  back,"  he  explained; 
"that  couldn't  be  done.  I  saw  and  examined  the  deed  of 
gift  of  the  premises  to  the  city.  The  only  thing  she  could 
do  would  be  to  buy  it  back,  and  it's  torn  up  inside,  and  will 
be  in  shape  for  opening  any  day  now,  I  hear.  The  city 
needed  a  Children's  Hospital;  to  get  a  place  like  that  free, 
in  so  beautiful  and  convenient  a  location — and  her  old 
friends  are  furious  at  her  for  bringing  sickness  and  crooked 
bodies  among  them.  No  doubt  they  would  welcome 
her  there,  but  they  wouldn't  welcome  her  anywhere  else. 
She  must  have  endowed  it  liberally,  no  hospital  in  the  city 
has  a  staff  of  the  strength  announced  for  it." 

"James,  you  are  wandering!"  she  interrupted.  "You 
started  to  tell  me  what  Miss  Winton  asked  of  you." 

"That  I  bring  Nellie  here,"  he  explained.  "That  I 
make  her  mistress  of  this  house.  That  I  put  myself  and 
the  boys  in  her  hands  again." 

"Oh  good  Lord!"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Winslow.  "James, 
are  you  actually  thinking  of  that  ?  Mind,  I  don't  care  for 
myself.  I  have  a  home  and  all  I  want.  But  for  you 
and  those  boys,  are  you  really  contemplating  it?" 

"No!"  he  said.  "All  I'm  thinking  of  is  whether  it  is 
my  duty  to  hunt  her  up  and  once  more  convince  myself 
that  she  is  heartless  vanity  personified,  and  utterly  indif- 
ferent to  me  personally,  as  I  am  to  her." 

"Suppose  you  do  go  to  her  and  find  that  through  pique, 


328  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

because  you  made  the  move  for  separation  yourself,  she 
wants  to  try  it  over,  or  to  get  the  boys  again — she's  got 
a  mint  of  money.  Do  you  know  just  how  much  she 
has?" 

"I  do  not,  and  I  never  did,"  he  replied.  "Her  funds 
never  in  any  part  were  in  my  hands.  I  felt  capable  of 
making  all  I  needed  myself,  and  I  have.  I  earn  as  much 
as  it  is  right  I  should  have;  but  she'd  scorn  my  plan  for 
life  and  what  satisfies  me;  and  she'd  think  the  boys  dis- 
graced, living  as  they  are." 

"James,  was  there  an  hour,  even  in  your  honeymoon, 
when  Nellie  forgot  herself  and  was  a  lovable  woman?" 

"It  is  painful  to  recall,  but  yes!  Yes  indeed!"  he  an- 
swered. "Never  did  a  man  marry  with  higher  hope!" 

"Then  what ?"  marvelled  Mrs.  Winslow. 

"Primarily,  her  mother,  then  her  society  friends,  then 
the  power  of  her  money,"  he  answered. 

"Just  how  did  it  happen?"  she  queried. 

"It  began  with  Mrs.  Blondon's  violent  opposition  to 
children;  when  she  knew  a  child  was  coming  she  practically 
moved  in  with  us,  and  spent  hours  pitying  her  daughter, 
sending  for  a  doctor  at  each  inevitable  consequence,  keep- 
ing up  an  exciting  rush  of  friends  coming  when  the  girl 
should  have  had  quiet  and  rest,  treating  me  with  con- 
tempt, and  daily  holding  me  up  as  the  monster  respon- 
sible for  all  these  things.  The  result  was  nervousness  and 
discontent  bred  by  such  a  course  at  such  a  time,  until  it 
amounted  to  actual  pain,  and  lastly  unlimited  money 
with  which  to  indulge  every  fancy. 

"In  such  circumstances  deliver}-  became  the  horror  they 


AN  ORPHANS'  HOME  329 

made  of  it,  although  several  of  the  doctors  told  me  pri- 
vately not  to  have  the  slightest  alarm;  it  was  simply  the 
method  of  rich  selfish  women  to  make  such  a  bugbear  of 
childbirth  a  v/ife  might  well  be  excused  for  refusing  to 
endure  it.  Sifted  to  the  bottom  that  was  exactly  what 
it  was.  I  didn't  know  until  the  birth  of  James  that  they 
had  neglected  to  follow  the  instructions  of  their  doctors 
and  made  no  preparation  for  nursing  the  child;  as  a  result, 
when  I  insisted  that  it  must  be  done,  shrieks  of  pain,  pain- 
ful enough  as  I  could  see,  resulted  in  a  nervous  chill  for  the 
mother,  more  inhumanity  in  me,  and  the  boy  was  turned 
over  to  a  hired  woman  with  his  first  breath  and  to  begin  un- 
natural life.  I  watched  the  little  chap  all  I  could;  he  was 
strong  and  healthy,  and  while  skilled  nurses  were  available 
he  upset  every  rule  by  thriving;  which  was  one  more  count 
against  me,  and  the  lesson  pointed  out  and  driven  home 
that  no  young  wife  could  give  a  child  such  attention,  so  the 
baby  was  better  off  in  the  hands  of  the  nurse.  That  he 
was  reared  without  love,  that  his  mother  took  not  an  iota 
of  responsibility  in  his  care,  developed  not  a  trait  of  mother- 
hood, simply  went  on  being  a  society  belle,  had  nothing  to 
do  with  it. 

"He  did  so  well,  Nellie  escaped  so  much  better  t^han 
many  of  her  friends,  that  in  time  she  seemed  to  forget  it 
and  didn't  rebel  at  Malcolm's  advent,  or  Elizabeth's,  but 
by  that  time  I  had  been  practically  ostracized  from  the 
nursery;  governesses  were  empowered  to  flout  and  insult 
me;  I  scarcely  saw  my  children,  and  what  I  did  see  made 
me  furious,  so  I  vetoed  more  orphans  bearing  my  name, 
and  gave  up  doing  anything.  Then  came  the  tragedy  of 


330  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Elizabeth.  Surely  you  understand  'just  how'  it  was  done 
Margaret?" 

"Of  course  I  had  an  idea,  but  I  never  before  got  just  the 
perfect  picture,  and  now  I  have  it,  though  it's  the  last 
word  I  want  to  say  to  you,  God  made  me  so  that  I'm  forced 
to  say  it,  although  it  furnishes  one  more  example  of  what  is 
called  inconsistency." 

"Be  careful  what  you  say,  Margaret!" 

"I  must  say  it,"  she  replied.  "I've  encouraged  you  to 
talk  in  detail,  because  I  wanted  to  be  sure  I  was  right  in  the 
position  I  was  taking;  but  you've  given  me  a  different 
viewpoint.  Why  James,  think  it  over  yourself  in  the  light 
of  what  you  j.ust  have  told  me.  Nellie  never  has  been  a 
mother  at  all!  Her  heart  is  more  barren  than  that  of  a 
woman  to  whom  motherhood  is  physical  impossibility,  yet 
whose  heart  aches  with  maternal  instinct!" 

"Margaret!"  cried  James  Minturn. 

"James,  it's  true!"  she  persisted.  "I  never  have  under- 
stood. For  fear  of  that,  I  led  you  on  and  now  look  what 
you've  told  me.  Nellie  never  had  a  chance  at  natural 
motherhood.  The  thing  called  society  made  a  foolish 
mother  to  begin  with,  while  she  in  turn  ruined  her  daugh- 
ter, and  if  Elizabeth  had  lived  it  would  have  been  passed 
on  to  her.  You  throw  a  new  light  on  Nellie.  As  long  as 
she  was  herself,  she  was  tender  and  loving,  and  you  adored 
her;  if  you  had  been  alone  and  moderately  circumstanced, 
she  wrould  have  continued  being  so  lovable  that  after  ten 
years  your  face  flushes  with  painful  memory  as  you  speak 
of  it.  I've  always  thought  her  abandoned  as  to  wifely  and 
motherly  instinct.  What  you  say  proves  she  was  a  lov- 


AN  ORPHANS'  HOME  33i 

able  girl,  ruined  by  society,  through  the  medium  of  her 
mother  and  friends." 

^"If  she  cared  for  me  as  she  said,  she  should  have  been 
enough  of  a  woman "  began  Mr.  Minturn. 

"Maybe  she  should,  but  you  must  take  into  considera- 
tion that  she  was  not  herself  when  the  trouble  began;  she 
was,  as  are  all  women,  even  those  most  delighted  over  the 
prospect,  in  an  unnatural  condition,  in  so  far  that  usual 
conditions  were  unusual,  and  probably  made  her  ill,  ner- 
vous, apprehensive,  not  herself  at  all." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  are  changing?" 
-"Worse  than  that!"  she  said  emphatically.  "I  have 
positively  and  permanently  changed.  Even  at  your  ex- 
pense I  will  do  Nellie  justice.  James,  your  grievance  is 
not  against  your  wife;  it  is  against  the  mother  who  bore 
her,  the  society  that  moulded  her." 

"She  should  have  been  woman  enough "  he  began. 

"Left  alone,  she  was!"  insisted  Mrs.  Winslow.  "With 
the  ills  and  apprehensions  of  motherhood  upon  her,  she 
yielded  as  most  young,  inexperienced  women  would  yield 
to  what  came  under  the  guise  of  tender  solicitude,  and  no 
doubt  eased  or  banished  pain,  which  all  of  us  avoid  when 
possible;  and  the  pain  connected  with  motherhood  is  a 
thing  in  awe  of  which  the  most  practised  physicians  admit 
themselves  almost  stunned.  The  woman  who  would  put 
aside  pampering  and  stoically  endure  what  money  and 
friends  could  alleviate  is  rare.  Jim,  pain  or  no  pain  to 
you,  you  must  find  your  wife  and  learn  for  yourself  if  she  is 
heartless;  or  whether  in  some  miraculous  way  some  one  has 
proved  to  her  what  you  have  made  plain  as  possible  to  me. 


332  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

You  must  hunt  her  up,  and  if  she  is  still  under  her  mother's 
and  society's  influence,  and  refuses  to  change,  let  her  re- 
main. But — but  if  she  has  changed,  as  you  have  just  seen 
me  change,  then  you  should  give  her  another  chance  if  she 
asks  it." 

"I  can't!  "he  cried. 

"You  must!     The  evidence  is  in  her  favour." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  demanded  impatiently. 

"Her  acquiescence  in  your  right  to  take  the  boys  and 
alter  their  method  of  life;  her  agreement  that  for  their 
sakes  you  might  do  as  you  chose  with  no  interference  from 
her;  both  those  are  the  acknowledgment  of  failure  on  her 
part  and  willingness  for  you  to  repair  the  damages  if  you 
can,"  she  explained.  "  Her  gift  of  a  residence,  the  furnish- 
ings of  which  would  have  paid  for  the  slight  alterations 
necessary  to  transform  a  modern  home  into  the  most 
beautiful  of  modern  hospitals,  in  a  wonderfully  lovely  lo- 
cation, and  leave  enough  to  start  it  with  as  fine  a  staff  as 
money  can  provide — that  gift  is  a  deliberately  planned 
effort  at  reparation;  the  limiting  of  patients  to  children 
under  ten  is  her  heart  trying  to  tell  yours  that  she  would 
atone." 

"O  Lord!"  cried  James  Mintum. 

"Yes  I  know,"  said  Mrs.  Winslow.  "Call  en  Him! 
You  need  Him!  There  is  no  question  but  that  He  put 
into  her  head  the  idea  of  setting  a  home  for  the  healing  of 
little  children,  in  the  most  exclusive  residence  district  of 
Multiopolis,  where  women  of  millions  are  forced  to  see  it 
every  time  they  look  from  a  window  or  step  from  then 
door.  Have  you  seen  it  yourself,  James?" 


AN  ORPHANS'  HOME  333 

"Naturally  I  wouldn't  haunt  the  location.'* 

"I  would,  and  I  did!"  said  Mrs.  Winslow.  "A  few 
days  ago  I  went  over  it  from  basement  to  garret.  You  go 
and  see  it.  And  I  recall  now  that  her  lawyer  was  there, 
with  sheets  of  paper  in  his  hand,  talking  with  workmen. 
I  think  he's  working  for  Nellie  and  that  she  is  probably 
directing  the  changes  and  personally  evolving  a  big,  white, 
shining  reparation." 

"It's  a  late  date  to  talk  about  reparation,"  he  said. 

"Which  simply  drives  me  to  the  truism,  'better  late 
than  never!'  and  to  the  addition  of  the  comment  that 
Nellie  is  only  thirty  and  that  but  ten  years  of  your  lives 
have  been  wasted;  if  you  hurry  and  save  the  remainder, 
you  should  have  fifty  apiece  coming  to  you,  if  you  breathe 
deep,  sleep  cool,  and  dine  sensibly,"  said  Mrs.  Winslow. 

She  walked  out  of  the  room  and  closed  the  door.  James 
Minturn  sat  thinking  a  long  time,  then  called  his  car  and 
drove  to  Atwater  alone.  He  found  Leslie  in  the  orchard, 
a  book  of  bird  scores  in  her  hands,  and  several  sheets  of 
music  beside  her.  Her  greeting  was  so  cordial,  so  frankly 
sweet  and  womanly,  he  could  scarcely  endure  it,  because 
his  head  was  filled  with  thoughts  of  his  wife. 

"You  are  still  at  your  bird  study?"  he  asked. 

"Yes.     It's  the  most  fascinating  thing,"  she  said. 

"  I  know,"  he  conceded.  "  I  want  the  titles  of  the  books 
you're  using.  I  mentioned  it  to  Mr.  Tower,  our  tutor,  and 
he  was  interested  instantly,  and  far  more  capable  of  going 
at  it  intelligently  than.  I  am,  because  he  has  some  musical 
training.  Ever  since  we  talked  it  over  he  and  the  boys 
have  been  at  work  in  a  crude  way;  you  might  be  amused  at 


334  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

their  results,  but  to  me  they  are  wonderful.  They  began 
hiding  in  bird  haunts  and  listening,  working  on  imitations 
of  cries  and  calls,  and  reproducing  what  they  heard,  until 
in  a  few  weeks'  time — why  I  don't  even  know  their  reper- 
toire, but  they  can  call  quail,  larks,  owls,  orioles,  whip- 
poor-wills,  so  perfectly  they  get  answers.  James  will 
never  do  anything  worth  while  in  music,  he's  too  much  like 
me;  but  Malcolm  is  saving  his  money  and  working  to  buy  a 
violin;  he's  going  to  read  a  music  score  faster  than  he  will  a 
book.  I'm  hunting  an  instructor  for  him  who  will  start 
his  education  on  the  subjects  which  interest  him  most. 
Do  you  know  any  one  Leslie?" 

"No  one  who  could  do  more  than  study  with  him.  It's 
a  branch  that  is  just  being  taken  up,  but  I  have  talked  of 
it  quite  a  bit  with  Mr.  Dovesky,  the  harmony  director  of 
the  Conservatory.  If  you  go  to  him  and  make  him  under- 
stand what  you  want  along  every  line,  I  think  he'd  take 
Malcolm  as  a  special  student.  I'd  love  to  help  him  as  far 
as  I've  gone,  but  Fm  only  a  beginner  myself,  and  I've  no 
such  ability  as  it  is  very  possible  he  may  have." 

"He  has  it,"  said  Mr.  Minturn  conclusively.  "He  has 
his  mother's  fine  ear  and  artistic  perception.  If  she  under- 
took it,  what  a  success  she  could  make!" 

"I  never  saw  her  so  interested  in  anvthing  as  she  was 
that  day  at  the  tamarack  swamp,"  said  Leslie,  "and  her 
heart  was  full  of  other  matters  too;  but  she  recognized  the 
songs  I  took  her  to  hear.  She  said  she  never  had  been  so 
attracted  by  a  new  idea  in  her  whole  life." 

"Leslie,  I  came  to  you  this  morning  about  Nellie.  I 
promised  you  to  think  matters  over,  and  I've  done  nothing 


AN  ORPHANS'  HOME  335 

else  since  I  last  saw  you,  hateful  as  has  been  the  occu- 
pation. You're  still  sure  of  what  you  said  about  her 
then?" 

"Positively!"  cried  Leslie. 

"Do  you  hear  from  her?"  he  asked. 

"No,"  she  answered. 

"You  spoke  of  a  letter "  he  suggested. 

"A  note  she  wrote  me  before  leaving,"  explained  Leslie. 
"You  see  I'd  been  with  her  all  day  and  we  had  raced  home 
so  joyously;  and  when  things  came  out  as  they  did,  she 
knew  I  wouldn't  understand." 

"Might  I  see  it?"  he  asked. 

"Surely,"  said  Leslie.  "I  spoke  of  that  the  other  day. 
I'll  bring  it." 

When  Leslie  returned  James  Minturn  read  the  missive 
several  times;  then  he  handed  it  back,  saying:  "What  is 
there  in  that  Leslie,  to  prove  your  points?" 

"Three  things,"  said  Leslie  with  conviction:  "The 
statement  that  for  an  hour  after  she  reached  her  decision 
she  experienced  real  joy  and  expected  to  render  the  same  to 
you;  the  acknowledgment  that  she  understood  that  you 
didn't  know  what  you  were  doing  to  her,  in  your  reception 
of  her;  and  the  final  admission  that  life  now  held  so  little 
for  her  that  she  would  gladly  end  it,  if  she  dared,  without 
making  what  reparation  she  could.  What  more  do  you 
want  ? " 

"You're  very  cure  you  are  drawing  the  right  deduc- 
tions?" he  asked. 

"I  wish  you  would  sit  down  and  let  me  tell  you  of  that 
day/'  said  Leslie. 


336  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"I  have  come  to  you  for  help,"  said  James  Minturn.  "I 
would  be  more  than  glad,  if  you'd  be  so  kind." 

At  the  end:  "I  don't  think  I've  missed  a  word,"  said 
Leslie.  "That  day  is  and  always  will  be  sharply  outlined." 

"You've  not  heard  from  her  since  that  note?"  he  asked. 
"You  don't  know  where  she  is?" 

"No,"  said  Leslie.  "  I  haven't  an  idea  where  you  could 
find  her;  but  because  of  her  lawyer  superintending  the  hos- 
pital repairs,  because  of  the  wonderful  way  things  are 
being  done,  Daddy  thinks  it's  sure  that  the  work  is  in 
John  Haynes'  hands,  and  that  she  is  directing  it  through 
him/' 

"If  it  were  not  for  the  war,  I  would  know,"  said  Mr. 
Minturn.  "But  understanding  her  as  I  do " 

"I  think  instead  of  understanding  her  so  well,  you 
scarcely  know  her  at  all,"  said  Leslie  gently.  "You 
may  have  had  a  few  months  of  her  real  nature  to  begin 
with,  but  when  her  rearing  and  environment  ruled  her  life, 
the  real  woman  was  either  perverted  or  had  small  chance. 
Do  you  ever  stop  to  think  what  kind  of  a  man  you  might 
have  been,  if  all  your  life  you  had  been  forced  and  influ- 
enced as  Nellie  was?" 

"Good  Lord!"  cried  Mr.  Minturn. 

"Exactly!"  agreed  Leslie.  "That's  what  I'm  telling 
you!  She  had  got  to  the  realization  of  the  fact  that  her 
life  had  been  husks  and  ashes;  so  she  went  to  beg  you  to 
help  her  to  a  better  way,  and  you  failed  her.  I'm  not 
saying  it  was  your  fault;  I'm  not  saying  I  blame  you;  I'm 
merely  stating  facts." 

"Margaret    blames    me!"    said    Mr.    Minturn.     "She 


AN  ORPHANS'  HOME  337 

thinks  I'm  enough  at  fault  that  I  never  can  find  happiness 
until  I  locate  Nellie  and  learn  whether  she  is  with  her 
mother  and  friends,  or  if  she  really  meant  what  she  said 
about  changing,  enough  to  go  ahead  and  be  different  from 
principle." 

"Her  change  was  radical  and  permanent." 

"I've  got  to  know,"  said  Mr.  Minturn,  "but  I've  no 
faith  in  her  ability  to  change,  and  no  desire  to  meet  her  if 
she  has." 

"Humph!"  said  Leslie.  "That  proves  that  you  need 
some  changing  yourself." 

"I  certainly  do,"  said  James  Minturn.  "If  I  could 
have  an  operation  on  my  brain  which  would  remove  that 
particular  cell  in  which  is  stored  the  memory  of  the  past 
ten  years " 

"You  will  when  you  see  her,"  said  Leslie,  "and  she'll 
be  your  surgeon." 

"Impossible!"  he  cried. 

"Go  find  her,"  said  Leslie.  "You  must  to  regain  peace 
for  yourself." 

James  Minturn  returned  a  troubled  man,  but  with  view- 
point shifting  so  imperceptibly  he  did  not  realize  what  was 
happening.  On  his  way  he  decided  to  visit  the  hospital, 
repugnant  as  the  thought  was  to  him.  From  afar  he  was 
amazed  at  sight  of  the  building.  He  knew  instantly  that 
it  must  have  been  the  leading  topic  of  conversation  among 
his  friends  purposely  avoided  in  his  presence.  Marble 
pillars  and  decorations  had  been  freshly  cleaned,  the  build- 
ing was  snowdrift  white;  it  shone  through  the  branches  of 
big  trees  surrounding  it  like  a  fairy  palace.  At  the  top  of 


338  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

the  steps  leading  to  the  entrance  stood  a  marble  group  of 
heroic  proportions  that  was  wonderful.  It  was  a  seated 
figure  of  Christ,  but  cut  with  the  face  of  a  man  of  his  sta- 
tion, occupation,  and  race,  garbed  in  simple  robe,  and  in 
his  arms,  at  his  knees,  leaning  against  him,  a  group  of 
children:  the  lean,  sick  and  ailing,  such  as  were  carried  to 
him  for  healing.  Cut  in  the  wall  above  it  in  large  gold- 
filled  letters  was  the  admonition:  "Suffer  little  children 
to  come  unto  me/* 

That  group  was  the  work  of  a  student  and  a  thinker 
who  could  carry  an  idea  to  a  logical  conclusion,  and  then 
carve  it  from  marble.  The  thought  it  gave  James  Min- 
turn,  arrested  before  it,  was  not  the  stereotyped  idea  of 
Christ,  not  the  conventional  reproduction  of  childhood. 
It  impressed  on  Mr.  Minturn's  brain  that  the  man  of 
Galilee  had  lived  in  the  form  of  other  men  of  his  day,  and 
that  such  a  face,  filled  with  infinite  compassion,  wras 
much  stronger  and  more  forceful  than  that  of  the  mild 
feminine  countenance  he  had  been  accustomed  to  associ- 
ating with  the  Saviour. 

He  entered  the  door  to  find  his  former  home  filled 
with  workmen,  and  the  opening  day  almost  at  hand. 
Everywhere  was  sanitary  whiteness.  The  reception  hall 
was  ready  for  guests,  his  library  occupied  by  the  ma- 
tron; the  dining-hall  a  storeroom,  the  second  and  third 
floors  in  separate  wards,  save  the  big  ballroom,  now  whiter 
than  ever,  its  touches  of  gold  freshly  gleaming,  beautiful 
flowers  in  tubs,  canaries  singing  in  a  brass  house  filling  one 
end  of  the  room,  tiny  chairs,  cots,  every  conceivable  form 
of  comfort  and  amusement  for  convalescing  little  children. 


;  AN  ORPHANS*  HOME  339 

The  pipe  organ  remained  in  place,  music  boxes  and  won- 
derful mechanical  toys  had  been  added,  rugs  that  had  been 
in  the  house  were  spread  on  the  floor.  No  normal  man 
could  study  and  interpret  the  intention  of  that  place  un- 
moved. All  over  the  building  was  the  same  beautiful 
whiteness,  the  same  comfort,  and  thoughtful  preparation 
for  the  purpose  it  was  designed  to  fill.  The  operating 
rooms  were  perfect,  the  whole  the  result  of  loving  thought, 
careful  execution,  and  uncounted  expense. 

He  came  in  time  to  the  locked  door  of  his  wife's  suite, 
and  before  he  left  the  building  he  met  her  lawyer.  He 
offered  his  hand  and  said  heartily:  "My  sistei  told  me  of 
the  wonderful  work  going  on  here;  she  advised  me  to 
come  and  see  for  myself.  I  am  very  glad  I  did.  There's 
something  bigger  than  the  usual  idea  in  this  that  keeps  ob- 
truding itself." 

"I  think  that  too,"  agreed  John  Haynes.  "I've  almost 
quit  my  practice  to  work  out  these  plans." 

"They  are  my  wife's,  by  any  chance?" 

"All  hers,"  said  Mr.  Haynes.  "I  only  carry  out  her  in- 
structions as  they  come  to  me." 

"Will  you  give  me  her  address?"  asked  Mr.  Minturn. 
"I  should  like  to  tell  her  how  great  I  think  this." 

"I  carry  a  packet  for  you  that  came  with  a  bundle  of 
plans  this  morning,"  said  Mr.  Haynes.  "Perhaps  her 
address  is  in  it.  If  it  isn't,  I  can't  give  it  to  you,  because 
I  haven't  it  myself.  She's  not  in  the  city,  all  her  instruc- 
tions she  sends  some  one,  possibly  at  her  mother's  home, 
and  they  are  delivered  to  me.  I  give  my  communications 
to  the  boy  who  bringsrher  orders." 


340  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Then  I'll  write  my  note  and  you  give  it  to  him." 

"I'm  sorry  Minturn,"  said  Mr.  Haynes,  "but  I  have 
my  orders  in  the  event  you  should  wish  to  reach  her 
through  me." 

"She  doesn't  wish  to  hear  from  me?" 

"I'm  sorry  no  end,  Mr.  Minturn,  but " 

"  Possibly  this  contains  what  I  want  to  know,"  said  Mr. 
Minturn.  "Thank  you,  and  I  congratulate  you  on  your 
work  here.  It  is  humane  in  the  finest  degree." 

James  Minturn  went  to  his  office  and  opened  the  packet. 
It  was  a  complete  accounting  of  every  dollar  his  wrife 
was  worth,  this  divided  exactly  into  thirds,  one  of  which 
she  kept,  one  she  transferred  to  him,  and  the  other  she 
placed  in  his  care  for  her  sons  to  be  equally  divided  be- 
tween them  at  his  discretion.  He  returned  and  found  the 
lawyer  had  gone  to  his  office.  He  followed  and  showed 
him  the  documents. 

"What  she  places  to  my  credit  for  our  sons,  that  I  will 
handle  with  the  utmost  care,"  he  said.  "What  she  puts 
at  my  personal  disposal  I  do  not  accept.  We  are  living 
comfortably,  and  as  expensively  as  I  desire  to.  There  is 
no  reason  why  I  should  take  such  a  sum  at  her  hands,  even 
though  she  has  more  than  I  would  have  estimated.  You 
will  kindly  return  this  deed  of  transfer  to  her,  with  my 
thanks,  and  a  note  I  will  enclose." 

"Sorry  Minturn,  but  as  I  told  you  before,  I  haven't 
her  address.  I'm  working  on  a  salary  I  should  dislike  to 
forfeit,  and  my  orders  are  distinct  concerning  you." 

"You  could  give  me  no  idea  where  to  find  her?" 

"Not  the  slightest!"  said  the  lawyer. 


AN  ORPHANS'  HOME  34i 

"Will  you  take  charge  of  these  papers?"  he  ques- 
tioned. 

"I  dare  not,"  replied  Mr.  Haynes. 

"Will  you  ask  her  if  you  may?"  persisted  Mr.  Min- 
turn. 

"Sorry  Minturn,  but  perhaps  if  you  should  see  my 
instructions  in  the  case,  you'd  understand  better.  I 
don't  wish  you  to  think  me  disobliging." 

Mr.  Minturn  took  the  sheet  and  read  the  indicated  par- 
agraph written  in  his  wife's  clear  hand: 

"Leslie  Winton  was  very  good  to  me  my  last  day  in  Multiopolis. 
She  was  with  me  when  I  reached  a  decision  concerning  my  future  rela- 
tions with  Mr.  Minturn,  as  I  would  have  arranged  them;  and  I  am 
quite  sure  when  she  knows  of  our  separation  she  will  feel  that  it  would 
not  have  occurred  had  James  known  of  this  decision  of  mine.  It  would 
have  made  no  difference;  but  I  am  convinced  Leslie  will  think  it  would, 
and  that  she  will  go  to  James  about  it.  I  doubt  if  it  will  change  his  atti- 
tude; but  if  by  any  possibility  it  should,  and  if  in  any  event  whatever  he 
comes  to  you  seeking  my  address,  or  me,  I  depend  on  you  to  in  no  way 
help  him,  if  it  should  happen  that  you  could.  For  this  reason  I  am  keep- 
ing it  out  of  your  power,  unless  I  make  some  misstep  that  points  to 
where  I  am.  I  don't  wish  to  make  any  mystery  of  my  location,  or  to 
disregard  any  intention  that  it  is  barely  possible  Leslie  could  bring  Mr. 
Minturn  to,  concerning  me.  I  merely  wish  to  be  left  alone  for  a  time; 
to  work  out  my  own  expiation,  if  there  be  any;  and  to  test  my  soul  until 
I  know  for  myself  whether  it  is  possible  for  a  social  leopard  to  change 
her  spots.  I  have  got  to  know  absolutely  that  I  am  beyond  question 
a  woman  fit  to  be  a  wife  and  mother,  before  I  again  trust  myself  in  any 
relation  of  life  toward  any  one." 

Mr.  Minturn  returned  the  sheet,  his  face  deeply  thought- 
ful. "I  see  her  point,"  he  said.  "I  will  deposit  the 
papers  in  a  safety  vault  until  she  comes,  and  in  accordance 


342  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

with  this,  I  shall  make  no  effort  to  find  her.  My  wife 
feels  that  she  must  work  out  her  own  salvation,  and  I 
am  beginning  to  realize  that  a  thorough  self-investigation 
and  revelation  will  not  hurt  me.  Thank  you.  Good 
morning." 


CHAPTER  XV 
A  PARTICULAR  Nix 

PEACHES  awakened  early  the  following  morning, 
but  Mickey  was  watching  beside  her  to  help  her 
remember,  to  prompt,  to  soothe,  to  comfort  and 
to  teach.  He  followed  Mrs.  Harding  to  the  kitchen  and 
from  the  prepared  food  selected  what  he  thought  came 
closest  filling  the  diet  prescribed  by  the  Sunshine  Nurse, 
and  then  he  carried  the  tray  to  a  fresh,  cool  Peaches  beside 
a  window  opening  on  a  grassy,  tree-covered  lawn.  Her 
room  was  bewildering  on  account  of  its  many,  and  to  the 
child,  magnificent  furnishings.  She  found  herself  stretch- 
ing, twisting  and  filled  with  a  wild  desire  to  walk,  to 
see  the  house,  the  little  girl  and  the  real  baby,  the  lawn 
beyond  her  window,  the  flower-field,  the  red  berries  where 
they  grew,  and  the  birds  and  animals  from  which  came 
the  most  amazing  sounds. 

After  doing  everything  for  Peaches  he  could,  Mickey 
went  to  his  breakfast.  Mary  Harding  and  Bobbie  were 
so  anxious  to  see  the  visitor  they  could  scarcely  eat. 
Knowing  it  was  no  use  to  try  forcing  them,  their  mother 
excused  them  and  they  ventured  as  far  as  the  door.  There 
they  stopped,  gazing  at  the  little  stranger,  while  she 
stared  back  at  them;  but  she  was  not  frightened,  because 
she  knew  who  they  were  and  that  they  would  be  good  tc 

343 


344  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

her,  else  Mickey  would  not  let  them  come.  So  when  Mary, 
holding  little  brother's  hand,  came  peeping  around  the 
door-casing,  Peaches  withdrew  her  attention  from  explora- 
tion of  the  strip  of  lawn  in  her  range  and  concentrated  on 
them.  If  they  had  come  bounding  at  her,  she  would  have 
been  frightened,  but  they  did  not.  They  stood  still,  half 
afraid,  watching  the  tiny  white  creature,  till  suddenly  she 
smiled  at  them  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"I  like  you,"  she  said.  "Did  you  have  red  berries  for 
breakfus?" 

Mary  nodded  and  smiled  back. 

"I  think  you're  a  pretty  little  girl,"  said  Peaches. 

"I  ain't  half  as  pretty  as  you,"  said  Mary. 

"No  a-course  you  ain't,"  she  admitted.  "Your  family 
don't  put  your  ribbon  on  you  'til  night,  do  they?  Mickey 
put  mine  on  this  morning  'cause  I  have  to  look  nice  and 
be  jus'  as  good,  else  I  have  to  be  took  back  to  the  hot  room. 
Do  you  have  to  be  nice  too?" 

"Yes,  I  have  to  be  a  good  girl,"  said  Mary. 

"What  does  your  family  do  to  you  if  you  don't  mind?" 

"I  ain't  going  to  tell,  but  it  makes  me,"  said  Mary. 
"What  does  yours  do  to  you?" 

"I  ain't  going  to  tell  either,"  said  Peaches,  "but  I  get 
jus'  as  good!  What's  your  name?" 

"Mary." 

"What's  his?" 

"Bobbie.  Mostly  we  call  him  little  brother.  Ain't  he 
sweet?"  asked  Mary. 

"Jus'  a  Precious  Child!     Let  him  mark  on  my  slate." 

Mickey  hurried  to  the  room.     As  he  neared  the  door  he 


A  PARTICULAR  NIX  345 

stepped  softly  and  peeped  inside.  It  was  a  problem  with 
him  as  to  how  far  Mary  and  Bobbie  (jould  be  trusted. 
Having  been  with  Peaches  every  day  he  could  not  accu- 
rately mark  improvements,  but  he  could  see  that  her  bones 
did  not  protrude  so  far,  that  her  skin  was  not  the  yellow, 
glisteny  horror  it  had  been,  that  the  calloused  spots  were 
going  under  the  steady  rubbing  of  nightly  oil  massage,  so 
lately  he  had  added  the  same  treatment  to  her  feet;  if  they 
were  not  less  bony,  if  the  skin  were  not  soft  and  taking  on  a 
pinkish  colour,  Mickey  felt  that  his  eyes  were  unreliable. 

Surely  she  was  better!  Of  course  she  was  better!  She 
had  to  be!  She  ate  more,  she  sat  up  longer,  she  moved  her 
feet  where  first  they  had  hung  helpless.  She  was  better, 
much  better,  and  for  that  especial  reason,  now  was  the 
time  to  watch  closer  than  before.  Now  he  must  make  sure 
that  a  big  strong  child  did  not  drag  her  from  the  bed,  and 
forever  undo  all  he  had  gained.  Since  he  had  written  Dr. 
Carrel,  Mickey  had  rubbed  in  desperation,  not  only  nights 
but  mornings  also,  lest  he  had  asked  help  before  he  was 
ready  for  it;  for  the  Sunshine  Lady  had  said  explicitly 
that  the  sick  back  could  not  be  operated  until  the  child 
was  stronger.  He  was  working  according  to  instructions. 

Mickey  watched.  Any  one  could  have  seen  the  delicate 
flush  on  Peaches'  cheek  that  morning,  the  hint  of  red  on 
her  lips,  the  clearing  whites  of  her  lovely  eyes.  She  was 
helping  Bobbie  as  Mickey  had  taught  her.  And  Bobbie 
approved  mightily.  He  lifted  his  face,  put  up  his  arms 
and  issued  his  command:  "Take  Bobbie!' 

"No!  No,  Bobbie,"  cautioned  Mary.  "Mother  said 
no!  You  must  stay  on  the  floor!  Sister  will  take  you. 


346  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

You  mustn't  touch  Peaches  'til  God  makes  her  well.  You 
asked  Him  last  night,  don't  you  know?  Mother  will 
spank  something  awful  if  you  touch  her.  You  must  be 
careful  'til  her  back  is  well,  mother  said  so,  and  father  too; 
father  said  it  Grosser  than  mother,  don't  you  remember:" 

"Mustn't  touch!"  repeated  Bobbie,  drawing  back. 

Mickey  was  satisfied  with  Mrs.  Harding's  instructions, 
but  he  took  the  opportunity  to  emphasize  a  few  points  him- 
self. He  even  slipped  one  white,  bony  foot  from  under  the 
sheet  and  showed  Mary  how  sick  it  was,  and  how  carefully 
it  must  be  rubbed  before  it  would  walk. 

"I  can  rub  it,"  announced  Mary. 

"Well  don't  you  try  that,"  cautioned  Mickey. 

"Why  go  on  and  let  her!"  interposed  Peaches.  "Go  or» 
and  let  her!  After  to-day  you  said  you'd  be  gone  all  day, 
an'  if  rubbing  in  the  morning  and  evening  is  good,  maybe 
more  would  make  me  walk  sooner.  Mickey  I  ain't  ever 
said  it,  'cause  you  do  so  much  an'  try  so  hard,  but  Mickey, 
I'm  just  about  dead  to  walk!  Mickey,  I'm  so  tired  being 
lifted.  Mickey,  I  want  to  get  up  an*  go  when  I  want  to,  like 
other  folks!"  " 

"Well  that's  the  first  time  you  ever  said  that." 

"Well  'tain't  the  first  time  I  ever  could  a-said  it,  if  I'd 
a-wanted  to,"  explained  Peaches. 

"I  see!  You  game  little  kid,  you,"  said  Mickey.  "All 
right  Mary,  you  ask  your  mother  and  if  she  says  so,  I'll 
show  you  how,  and  maybe  you  can  rub  Lily's  feet,  if  you 
go  slow  and  easy  and  don't  jar  her  back  a  speck." 

"Ma  said  I  could  a-ready,"  explained  Mary.  "Ma  said 
for  me  to!  She  said  all  of  us  would,  all  the  time  we  had 


A  PARTICULAR  NIX  347 

while  you  were  away,  so  she'd  get  better  faster.  Ma  said 
she'd  give  a  hundred  dollars  if  Peaches  would  get  so  she 
could  walk  here." 

Mickey  sat  back  on  his  heels  suddenly. 

"Who'd  she  say  that  to?"  he  demanded. 

"Pa.     And  he  said  he'd  give  five  hundred." 

"Aw-a-ah!"  marvelled  Mickey. 

"He  did  too!"  insisted  Mary.  "This  morning  'fore  you 
came  out.  And  Junior  would  too.  He'd  give  all  in  his 
bank!  And  he'd  rub  too!  He  said  he  would." 

"Well,  if  you  ain't  the  nicest  folks!"  cried  Mickey. 
"Gee,  I'm  glad  I  found  you!" 

"Jus'  as  glad!"  chimed  in  Peaches. 

"Mary  bring  Robert  here!"  called  Mrs.  Harding  from 
the  hall.  Mary  obeyed.  Mickey  moved  up  and  looked 
intently  at  Peaches. 

"Well  Lily,"  he  asked,  "what  do  you  think  of  this?" 

"I  wouldn't  trade  this  for  Heaven!"  she  answered. 

"The  country  is  all  the  Heaven  a-body  needs,  in 
June." 

"Mickey,  bring  in  the  cow  now!"  ordered  Peaches. 

"Bring  in  the  cow?"  queried  Mickey. 

"Sure,  the  little  red  cow  in  the  book  that  makes  the 
milk.  I  want  you  to  milk  her  right  here  on  my  bed!" 

"Well,  if  I  ever!"  gasped  Mickey.  "Sure,  I'll  bring  her 
in  a  minute;  but  a  cow  is  big,  Lily!  Awful,  great  big.  I 
couldn't  bring  her  in  here;  but  maybe  I  can  drive  her  where 
you  can  see,  or  I  don't  know  what  would  be  the  harm  in 
taking  you  where  the  cows  are.  But  first,  one  thing! 
Now  you  look  right  at  me,  Miss  Chicken.  There's  some- 


348  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

thing  I  got  to  know  if  you  got  in  your  head  straight.     Wha 
found  you,  and  kept  them  from  'getting'  you?" 

"Mickey-lovest,"  replied  Peaches  promptly. 

"Then  who  d'you  belong  to?"  he  demanded. 

"Mickey!"  she  answered  instantly. 

"Who  you  got  to  do  as  I  say?"  he  continued. 

"Mickey,"  she  repeated. 

"  Whose  family  are  you?"  he  pursued. 

"Mickey's!"  she  cried.  "Mickey,  what's  the  matter? 
Mickey,  I  love  you  best.  I'm  all  yours.  Mickey,  I'll  go 
back  an'  never  say  a  word  'bout  the  hotness,  or  the  longness, 
or  anything,  if  you  don't  want  me  here." 

"Well  I  do  want  you  here,"  said  Mickey  in  slow  insist- 
ent tone.  "I  want  you  right  here!  But  you  got  to  under- 
stand a  few  things.  You're  mine.  I'm  going  to  keep  you; 
you  got  to  understand  that." 

"Yes  Mickey,"  conceded  Peaches. 

"And  if  it  will  help  you  to  be  rubbed  more  than  I  can 
rub  you  while  I  got  to  earn  money  to  pay  for  our  supper 
when  we  go  home,  and  fix  your  back,  and  save  for  the  sem- 
inary, I'll  let  the  nice  pleasant  lady  rub  you;  and  I'll  let  a 
good  girl  like  Mary  rub  you,  and  if  his  hands  ain't  so  big 
they  hurt,  maybe  I'll  let  Peter  rub  you;  he  takes  care  of 
Bobbie,  maybe  he  could  you,  and  he's  got  a  family  of  his 
own,  so  he  knows  how  it  feels;  but  it's  nix  on  anybody  else, 
Miss  Chicken,  see?" 

"They  ain't  nobody  else!"  said  Peaches. 

"There  is  too!"  contradicted  Mickey.  "Mary  said 
Junior  would  rub  your  feet!  Well  he  wont !  It's  nix  on 
Junior!  He's  only  a  boy  !  He  aint  got  a  family.  H* 


A  PARTICULAR  NIX  349 

hasn't  had  experience.  He  doesn't  know  anything  about 
families  !  See  ?  " 

"He  carries  Bobbie,  an'  I  bet  he's  heavier  'an  me." 

For  the  first  time  Mickey  lost  his  temper. 

"Now  you  looky  here,  Miss  Chicken,"  he  stormed.  "I 
ain't  saying  what  he  can  do,  I'm  saying  what  he  cant .' 
See?  You  are  mine,  and  I'm  going  to  keep  you!  He  can 
lift  me  for  all  I  care,  but  he  can't  carry  you,  nor  rub  your 
feet,  nor  nothing;  because  he  didn't  find  you,  and  you  ain't 
his;  and  I  won't  have  it,  not  at  all!  Course  he's  a  good 
boy,  and  he's  a  nice  boy,  and  you  can  play  with  him,  and 
talk  to  him,  I'll  let  you  just  be  awful  nice  to  him,  because 
it's  polite  that  you  should  be,  but  when  it  comes  to  carry- 
ing and  rubbing,  it's  nix  on  Junior,  because  he's  got  no 
family  and  doesn't  understand.  See?" 

"Umhuh,"  taunted  Peaches. 

"Well,  are  you  going  to  promise?"  demanded  Mickey. 

"Maybe,"  she  teased. 

"  Back  you  go  and  never  see  a  cow  at  all  if  you  don't 
promise,"  threatened  Mickey. 

"Mickey,  what's  the  matter  with  you?"  cried  Peaches 
suddenly.  "What  you  getting  a  tantrum  yourself  for? 
You  ain't  never  had  none  before." 

"That  ain't  no  sign  I  ain't  just  busting  full  of  them," 
said  Mickey.  "  Bad  ones,  and  I  feel  an  awful  one  as  can 
be  coming  right  now,  and  coming  quick.  Are  you  going  to 
promise  me  nobody  who  hasn't  a  family,  carries  you,  and 
rubs  you?" 

Peaches  looked  at  him  in  steady  wonderment. 

"I  guess  you're  pretty  tired,  an'  you  need  to  sleep  a  while, 


350  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

or  somepin,"  she  said.  "If  you  wasn't  about  sick  yourself, 
you'd  know  'at  anybody  'cept  you  'ull  get  their  dam-gone 
heads  ripped  off  if  they  touches  me,  nelse  you  say  so. 
Course,  you  found  me!  Course,  they'd  a-got  me,  if  you 
hadn't  took  me.  Course,  I'm  yours!  Course,  it's  nix  on 
Junior,  an'  it's  nix  on  Peter  if  you  say  so.  Mickey,  I  jus' 
love  you  an'  love  you.  I'll  go  back  now  if  you  say  so,  I  tell 
you.  Mickey  what's  the  matter?" 

She  stretched  up  her  arms,  and  Mickey  sank  into  them. 
He  buried  his  face  beside  hers  and  for  the  first  time  she 
patted  him,  and  whispered  to  him  as  she  did  to  her  doll. 
She  rubbed  her  cheek  against  his,  crooned  over  him,  -and 
held  him  tight  while  he  gulped  down  big  sobs. 

"Mickey,  tell  me,"  she  begged,  like  a  little  mother. 
"Tell  me  honey?  Are  you  got  a  pain  anywhere?" 

"No!"  he  said.  "Maybe  I  was  kind  of  strung  up,  get- 
ting you  here  and  being  so  awful  scared  about  hurting  you; 
but  it's  all  right  now.  You  are  here,  and  things  are  going 
to  be  fine,  only,  will  you,  cross  your  heart,  always  and  for- 
ever remember  this:  it's  nix  on  Junior,  or  any  boy,  who  ain't 
got  a  family,  and  doesn't  understand  ?  " 

"Yes  Mickey,  cross  my  heart,  an*  frever,  an'  ever;  an' 
Mickey,  you  must  get  the  soap.  I  slipped,  an'  said  the 
worse  yet.  I  didn't  mean  to,  but  Mickey,  I  guess  you 
can't  trust  me.  I  guess  you  got  to  soap  me,  or  beat  me,  or 
somepin  awful.  Go  on  an'  do  it,  Mickey." 

"Why  crazy!"  said  Mickey.  "You're  mixed  up.  You 
didn't  say  anything!  What  you  said  was  all  rightest  ever; 
Tightest  of  anything  I  ever  heard.  It  was  just  exactly  what 
I  wanted  you  to  say.  I  just  lov&d  what  you  said." 


A  PARTICULAR  NIX  35r 

"Well  if  I  ever!"  cried  Peaches.  "Mickey,  you  was  so 
mixed  up  you  didn't  hear  me.  I  got  'nother  chance. 
Goody,  goody!  Now  show  me  the  cow!" 

"All  right!"  said  Mickey.  "I'll  talk  with  Mrs.  Hard- 
ing and  see  how  she  thinks  I  best  go  at  it.  Lily,  you  won't 
ever,  ever  forget  that  particular  nix,  will  you?" 

"Not  ever,"  she  promised,  and  lifted  her  lips  to  seal  the 
pact  with  a  kiss  that  meant  more  to  Mickey  than  all  that 
had  preceded  it. 

"Just  how  do  you  feel,  anyway,  Flowersy-girl ? " 

"Fine!"  said  Peaches.  "I  can  tell  by  how  it  is  right 
now,  that  it  isn't  going  to  get  all  smothery  an'  sweatin's 
here;  whoohoo  it's  so  good,  Mickey!" 

Mickey  bent  over  her  holding  both  hands  and  whis- 
pered: "Then  just  you  keep  right  before  your  eyes 
where  you  came  from,  Miss,  and  what  you  must  go  back 
to,  if  you  don't  behave.  You  will  be  a  good  girl,  won't 
you?" 

"Honest,  Mickey-lovest,  jus'  as  good." 

"Well  how  goes  it  with  the  Little  White  Butterfly?" 
asked  Peter  at  the  door. 

Mickey  looked  at  Peaches  to  slightly  nod  encourage- 
ment, then  he  slipped  from  the  room.  She  gave  Peter  a 
smile  of  wonderment  and  answered  readily:  "Grand as 
queen-lady.  You're  jus'  so  nice  and  fine." 

Now  Peter  hadn't  known  it,  but  all  his  life  he  had  been 
big;  handled  rough  tools,  tasks,  implements  and  animals; 
while  his  body  grew  sinewy  and  hard,  to  cope  with  his 
task,  his  heart  demanded  more  refined  things;  so  if  Peaches 
had  known  the  most  musical  languages  on  earth,  she  could 


352  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

not  have  used  words  to  Peter  that  would  have  served  her 
better.  He  radiated  content. 

"Good!"  he  cried.  "That's  grand  and  good!  I  didn't 
take  a  fair  look  at  you  last  night.  It  was  so  sissing  hot  in 
that  place  and  you  went  to  sleep  before  I  got  my  chores 
done;  but  now  we  must  get  acquainted.  Tell  me  honey, 
does  any  particular  place  in  your  little  body  hurt  you?  If 
there  does,  put  your  hand  and  show  Peter  where." 

Peaches  stared  at  Peter,  then  she  faintly  smiled  at  him 
and  laid  a  fluttering  hand  on  her  left  side. 

"Oh  shockings!"  mourned  Peter.  "That's  too  bad! 
That's  vital!  Your  heart's  right  under  there,  honey.  Is 
there  a  pain  in  your  heart  ?" 

Peaches  nodded  solemnly. 

"Not  all  the  time!"  she  explained.  "Only  like  now, 
when  you  are  so  good  to  me.  Jus'  so  fine  and  good." 

Then  and  there  Peter  surrendered.  He  bent  and  kissed 
the  hand  he  held,  and  said  with  tears  saturating  his  words, 
just  as  tears  do  permeate  speech  sometimes:  "Pshaw  now, 
Little  White  Butterfly!  I  never  was  more  pleased  to  hear 
anything  in  my  life.  Ma  and  I  have  talked  for  years  of 
having  some  city  children  here  for  summer,  but  we've  been 
slow  trying  it  because  we  hear  such  bad  reports  from  many 
of  them,  and  it's  natural  for  people  to  shield  their  own;  but 
I  guess  instead  of  shielding,  we  may  have  been  denying.  1 
I  can't  see  anything  about  you  children  to  hurt  ours;  and  I 
notice  a  number  of  ways  where  it  is  beneficial  to  have  you 
here.  It's  surely  good  for  all  of  us.  You're  the  nicest  little 
folks!" 

Peaches  sat  up  suddenly  and  smiled  on  Peter. 


A  PARTICULAR  NIX  353 

"Mickey  is  nice  an'  fine,"  she  told  him.  "Not  even 
you,  or  anybody,  is  nice  as  Mickey.  An'  I'm  going  to  be. 
I'd  like  to  be!  But  you  see,  I  laid  alone  all  day  in  a  dark 
corner  so  long,  an'  I  got  so  wild  like,  'at  when  granny  did 
come,  I  done  an'  said  jus'  like  she  did,  but  Mickey  doesn't 
like  it.  He's  scart  'most  stiff  fear  I'll  forget  an'  say  bad 
swearin's,  an'  you'll  send  me  back  to  the  hotness,  so's  I 
won't  get  better.  Would  you  send  me  back  if  I  forget 
fust  once,  Peter?" 

"Why  pshaw  now!"  said  Peter.  "Pshaw  Little  Soul, 
don't  you  worry  about  that.  You  try  hard  to  remember, 
and  be  like  Mickey  wants  you  to,  and  if  you  make  a  slip, 
I'll  speak  to  Ma  about  it,  and  we'll  just  turn  a  deaf  ear,  and 
away  out  here,  you'll  soon  forget  it." 

Just  then,  Mickey,  trailing  a  rope,  passed  before  the 
window;  there  was  a  crunching  sound;  a  lumbering  cow 
stopped,  lifted  a  mouth  half  filled  with  grass,  and  bawled 
her  loudest  protest  at  being  separated  from  her  calf. 
Peaches  had  only  half  a  glance,  but  her  shriek  was  utter 
terror.  She  launched  herself  on  Peter  and  climbed  him, 
until  her  knees  were  on  his  chest,  and  her  fingers  clutching 
his  hair. 

"God  Jesus!"  she  screamed.     "It  'ull  eat  me!" 

Peter  caught  her  in  his  arms,  turning  his  back.  Mickey 
heard,  and  saw,  and  realized  that  the  cow  was  too  big  and 
had  appeared  too  precipitately,  and  bellowed  too  loudly. 
He  should  have  begun  on  the  smallest  calf  on  the  place. 
He  rushed  the  cow  back  to  Junior,  and  himself  to  Peaches, 
who,  sobbing  wildly,  still  clung  to  Peter.  As  Mickey  en- 
tered, frightened  and  despairing,  he  saw  that  Peter  was 


MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

much  concerned,  but  laughing  until  his  shoulders  shook, 
and  in  relief  that  he  was,  and  that  none  of  the  children 
were  present,  Mickey  grinned,  acquired  a  slow  red,  and 
tried  to  quiet  Peaches. 

"Shut  that  window!"  she  screamed.     "Shut  it  quick!" 

"Why  honey,  that's  the  cow  you  wanted  to  see," 
soothed  Mickey.  "That's  the  nice  cow  that  gave  the 
very  milk  you  had  for  breakfast.  Junior  was  going  to 
milk  her  where  you  could  see.  We  thought  you'd  like  it!" 

"Don't  let  it  get  me!"  cried  Peaches. 

"WThy  it  ain't  going  to  get  anything  but  grass!"  said 
Mickey.  "Didn't  you  see  me  leading  it?  I  can  make 
that  big  old  thing  go  where  I  please.  Come  on,  be  a  game 
kid  now.  You  ain't  a  baby  coward  girl!  It's  only  a  cow! 
You  are  going  to  put  it  on  your  book!" 

"I  ain't!"  sobbed  Peaches.  "I  ain't  ever  going  to 
drink  milk  again!  I  jus'  bet  the  milk  will  get  me!" 

"  Be  game  now ! "  urged  Mickey.  "  Mary  milks  the  cow. 
Baby  Bobbie  runs  right  up  to  her.  Everything  out  here  is 
big,  Lily.  I  ran  from  the  horses.  I  jumped  on  a  fence, 
and  Junior  laughed  at  me." 

"Mickey,  what  did  you  say?"  wavered  Peaches. 

"I  didn't  say  anything,"  said  Mickey.  "I  just  jumped." 

"Mickey,  I  jumped,  an*  I  said  it,  both.  I  said  it  right 
on  Peter,"  she  bravely  confessed.  "Mickey,  I  said  the 
worst  yet!  I  didn't  know  I  did,  'til  I  heard  it!  But 
Mickey,  I  got  another  chance!" 

Peaches  wiped  her  eyes,  tremulously  glanced  at  the 
window,  and  still  clinging  to  Mickey  explained:  "I  was 
just  telling  Peter  about  the  swearin's,  an'  Mickey,  don't 


A  PARTICULAR  NIX  355 

feel  so  bad.  He  won't  send  me  back  for  just  once. 
Mickey,  Peter  has  got  '  a  deaf  ear.'  He  said  he  had !  He 
ain't  goin'  to  hear  it  when  I  slip  a  swearin's,  an'  Mickey, 
I  am  tryin'!  Honest  I'm  tryin'  jus'  as  hard,  Mickey!" 

Mickey  turned  a  despairing  face  toward  Peter. 

"Just  like  she  says,"  assured  Peter.  "We've  all  got 
our  faults.  You'll  have  to  forgive  her  Mickey." 

"Me?  Of  course!"  conceded  Mickey.  "But  what 
about  you?  You  don't  want  your  nice  little  children  to 
hear  bad  words." 

"Well,"  said  Peter,  "don't  make  too  much  of  it!  It's 
likely  there  are  no  words  she  can  say  that  my  children 
don't  know.  Just  ignore  and  forget  it!  She  won't  do  it 
often.  I'm  sure  she  won't!" 

"Are  you  sure  you  won't,  Miss  ? "  demanded  Mickey. 

"Sure!"  said  Peaches,  and  in  an  effort  to  change  the 
subject:  "Mickey,  is  that  cow  out  there  yet?" 

"No,  Junior  took  her  back  to  the  barnyard." 

"Mickey,  I  ain't  going  to  put  a  cow  on  my  book;  but  I 
want  to  see  her  again,  away  off.  Mickey,  take  me  where 
I  can  see.  You  said  last  night  you  would." 

"But  the  horses  are  bigger  than  the  cows.  You'll  get 
scared  again,  and  with' scaring  and  crying  you'll  be  so  bad 
off  your  back  won't  get  any  better  all  day,  and  to-morrow 
I  got  to  leave  you  and  go  to  work." 

"Then  I'll  see  all  the  things  to-day,  an'  to-morrow  I'll 
think  about  them  'til  you  come  back.  Please  Mickey! 
If  things  don't  get  Bobbie  an'  Mary,  they  won't  get  me!" 

"That's  a  game  little  girl!"  said  Mickey.  "All  right, 
I'll  take  you.  But  you  ought  to  have " 


356  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Have  what  Mickey?"  she  inquired,  instantly  alert. 

"Well  never  you  mind  what,"  sa;d  Mickey.  "You  be  a 
good  girl  and  lie  still,  so  your  back  will  be  better,  and 
watch  the  bundle  I'll  bring  home  to-morrow  night." 

Peaches  shivered  in  delight.  Mickey  proceeded  slowly, 
followed  by  the  entire  family. 

"Mickey,  it's  so  big!"  she  marvelled.  "Everything  is 
so  far  away,  an'  so  big!" 

"Now  isn't  it!"  agreed  Mickey.  "You  see  it's  like  I 
told  you.  Now  let  me  show  you  the  garden." 

He  selected  that  as  a  safe  proposition.  Peaches  grasped 
the  idea  readily  enough.  Mrs.  Harding  gathered  vegeta- 
bles for  her  to  see.  When  they  reached  the  strawberry  bed 
Mickey  knelt  and  with  her  own  fingers  Peaches  pulled 
a  berry  and  ate  it,  then  laughed,  exclaimed,  and  cried  in 
delight.  She  picked  a  flower,  and  from  the  safe  vantage 
of  the  garden  viewed  the  cows  and  horses  afar;  and  the 
fields  and  sheep  were  explained  to  her.  Mickey  carried 
her  across  the  road,  Mary  brought  a  comfort,  and  for  a 
whole  hour  the  child  lay  under  a  big  tree  with  pink  and 
white  clover  in  a  foot-deep  border  around  her.  When 
they  lifted  her  she  said:  "Mickey,  to-night  we  put  in  the 
biggest  blesses  of  all." 

"What?"  inquired  Mickey. 

"Bless  the  nice  people  for  such  grand  things,  an'  the 
berries;  but  never  mind  about  the  cow." 

Then  Mickey  took  her  back  to  the  house.  She  awoke 
from  a  restful  nap  to  find  a  basket  of  chickens  waiting  for 
her,  barely  down  dry  from  their  shells.  She  caught  up  a 
little  yellow  ball,  and  with  both  hands  clutched  it,  exclaim- 


A  PARTICULAR  NIX  3S7 

ing  and  crying  in  joy  until  Mickey  saw  the  chicken  was 
drooping.  He  pried  open  her  excited  little  fingers;  but 
the  chicken  remained  limp.  Soon  it  became  evident  that 
she  had  squeezed  the  life  from  it. 

"Oh  Peaches,  you  held  it  too  tight!"  wailed  Mickey. 
"I'm  afraid  you've  made  it  sick!" 

"I  didn't  mean  to  Mickey!"  she  protested.  "I  didn't 
drop  it!  I  held  it  tight  as  I  could!" 

Mrs.  Harding  reached  over  and  picked  the  chicken  from 
Mickey's  fingers. 

"That  chicken  wasn't  very  well  to  begin  with,"  she 
said.  "You  give  it  to  me,  and  I'll  doctor  it  up,  while 
you  take  another  one.  Which  do  you  want  ? " 

"Yellow,"  sniffed  Peaches,  "but  please  hurry,  and 
Mickey,  you  hold  this  one.  Maybe  I  held  too  hard!" 

"Yes  you  did,"  laughed  Peter.  "But  we  wanted  to 
see  what  you'd  do.  One  little  chicken  is  a  small  price  for 
the  show  you  give.  It's  all  right,  Butterfly." 

"Peter,  you  make  everything  all  right,  don't  you?" 

"Well  honey,  I  would  if  I  could,"  said  Peter.  "But 
that's  something  of  a  contract.  Now  you  rest  till  after 
dinner,  and  if  Ma  and  Mickey  agree  on  it,  we'll  go  see 
the  meadow  brook  and  hear  the  birds  sing." 

"The  water!"  shouted  Peaches.  "Mickey,  you  prom- 
ised  " 

"Yes  I  remember,"  said  Mickey.  "I'll  see  how  cold 
it  is  and  if  I  think  it  won't  chill  you — yes." 

"Oh  gee!"  chortled  Peaches.     "'Nother  blesses!" 

"What  does  she  mean?"  asked  Peter. 

Mickey  explained. 


358  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Can't  see  how  it  would  hurt  her  a  mite,"  said  Peter. 
"Water  is  warm,  nice  day.  It  will  be  good  for  her." 

"All  right,"  said  Mickey,  "then  we'll  try  it.  But  how 
about  the  plowing  Peter,  shouldn't  I  be  helping  your" 

"Not  to-day,"  said  Peter.  "I  never  allow  my  work 
to  drive  me,  so  I  get  pleasure  from  life  my  neighbours 
miss,  and  I'll  compare  bank  accounts  with  any  of  them. 
To-morrow  I'll  work.  To-day  I'm  entertaining  company, 
or  rather  they  are  entertaining  me.  I  think  this  is  about 
the  best  day  of  my  life.  Isn't  it  great,  Ma  ? " 

"It  just  is!  I  can't  half  work,  myself!"  answered 
Nancy  Harding.  "I  just  wonder  if  we  could  take  a  little 
run  in  the  car  after  supper?" 

"What  do  you  think  about  it,  Mickey?"  asked  Peter. 

"  WTiy,  I  can't  see  that  coming  out  hurt  her  any." 

"Then  we'll  go,"  said  Peter. 

"  Do  I  have  to  be  all  covered  ? "  questioned  Peaches. 

"Not  nearly  so  much,"  explained  Mickey.  "I'll  let 
you  see  a  lot  more.  There's  a  bobolink  bird  down  the 
street  Peter  wants  to  show  you." 

"'Street!'"  jeered  Junior.     "That's  a  road!" 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "I  got  a  lot  to  learn.  You  tell 
me,  will  you  Junior?" 

"Course!"  said  Junior,  suddenly  changing  from  scorn 
to  patronage.  "Now  let's  take  her  to  the  creek ! " 

"Well  that's  quite  a  walk,"  said  Peter.  "We're  not 
going  there  unless  I  carry  the  Little  White  Butterfly.  You 
want  me  to  take  you,  don't  you?" 

Peaches  answered  instantly. 

"Mickey  always  carries  me.     He  can!     And  of  course 


A  PARTICULAR  NIX  359 

I  like  him  the  best;  but  after  him,  I  like  you  best  Peter, 
so  you  may,  if  he'll  let  you." 

"So  that's  the  way  the  wind  blows!"  laughed  Peter. 
"Then  Mickey,  it's  up  to  you." 

"Why  sure!"  said  Mickey.  "Since  you  are  so  big,  and 
got  a  family  of  your  own,  so  you  understand " 

"What  Mickey?"  asked  Peter. 

"Oh  how  to  be  easy  with  little  sick  people,"  answered 
Mickey,  "and  that  a  man's  family  is  his  family,  and  he 
don't  want  anybody  else  butting  in!" 

"I  see!"  said  Peter,  struggling  with  his  facial  muscles. 
"Of  course!  But  this  sheet  is  going  to  be  rather  bungle- 
some.  Ma,  could  you  do  anything  about  it?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Harding.  "Mary,  you  run  up  to  the 
flannel  chest,  and  get  Bobbie's  little  blue  blanket." 

Peter  lifted  the  child  to  his  broad  breast,  she  slipped  her 
arms  around  his  neck,  and  laid  her  head  on  his  shoulder. 

Bloom  time  was  past,  but  bird  time  was  not,  while  the 
leaves  were  still  freshly  green  and  tender.  Some  of  them 
reached  to  touch  Peaches'  gold  hair  in  passing.  She  was 
held  high  to  see  into,  nests  and  the  bluebirds'  hollow  in 
the  apple  tree.  Peaches  gripped  Peter  and  cried:  "Don't 
let  it  get  my  feet!"  when  the  old  turkey  gobbler  came 
rasping,  strutting,  and  spitting  at  the  party.  Mickey 
pointed  to  Mary,  who  was  unafraid,  and  Peaches'  clutch 
grew  less  frantic  but  she  defended:  "Well,  I  don't  care!  I 
bet  if  she  hadn't  ever  seen  one  before,  an'  then  a  big  thing 
like  that  would  come  right  at  her,  tellin'  plain  it  was  goin' 
to  eat  her  alive,  it  would  scare  the  livers  out  of  her." 

"Yes  I  guess  it  would,"  conceded  Peter.     "But  you 


360  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

got  the  eating  end  of  it  wrong.  It  isn't  going  to  eat  us, 
we  are  going  to  eat  it.  About  Thanksgiving,  we'll  lay  its 
head  on  the  block  and  Ma  will  stuff  it " 

"I've  quit  stuffing  turkeys,  Peter,"  said  Mrs.  Harding. 
"I  find  it  spoils  the  flavour  of  the  meat." 

"Well  then  it  will  stuff  us,"  said  Peter,  "  all  we  can  hold, 
and  mince  pie,  plum  pudding,  and  every  good  thing  we 
can  think  of.  What  piece  of  turkey  do  you  like  best, 
Butterfly?" 

Mickey  instantly  scanned  Peter,  then  Mrs.  Peter,  and 
tensely  waited. 

"Oh  stop!     Stop!    Is  that  a  turkey  bird  ?  "  cried  Peaches. 

"Surely  it  is,"  said  Mrs.  Harding.  "Why  childie, 
haven't  you  ever  seen  a  turkey,  either?" 

"No  I  didn't  ever,"  said  Peaches.  "Can  turkey  birds 
sing?" 

Just  then  the  gobbler  stuck  forward  his  head  and  sang: 
"Gehobble,  hobble,  hobble!"  Peaches  gripped  Peter's 
hair  and  started  to  ascend  him  again.  Mrs.  Harding 
waved  her  apron;  the  turkey  suddenly  reduced  its  size 
three-fourths,  skipped  aside,  and  a  neat,  trim  bird,  high 
stepping  and  dainty,  walked  through  the  orchard. 
Peaches  collapsed  in  Peter's  arms  in  open-mouthed  wonder. 
"Gosh!  How  did  it  cave  in  like  that?"  she  cried. 

Peter's  shoulders  were  shaking,  but  he  answered  gravely: 
"Well  that's  a  way  it  has  of  puffing  itself  up  and  making  a 
great  big  pretense  that  it  is  going  to  flop  us,  and  then  if 
just  little  Bobbie  or  Ma  waves  an  apron  or  a  stick  it  gets 
out  of  the  way  in  a  hurry." 

"I've  seen  Multiopolis  millyingaires  cave  in  like  that 


A  PARTICULAR  NIX  36i 

sometimes  when  I  waved  a  morning  paper  with  an  inch- 
high  headline  about  them,"  commented  Mickey. 

Peter  Harding  glanced  at  his  wife,  then  they  laughed  to- 
gether. Peter  stepped  over  a  snake  fence,  went  carefully 
down  a  hill,  crossed  the  meadow  to  the  shade  of  a  tree,  sat 
on  the  bank  of  the  brook  and  watched  Peaches  as  she 
studied  first  the  clear  babbling  water,  then  the  grass  trail- 
ing in  the  stream,  the  bushes,  trees,  and  then  the  water 
again. 

"Mickey,  come  here!"  she  commanded.  "Put  your 
head  right  down  beside  mine.  Now  look  just  the  way  I 
do,  an'  tell  me  what  you  see." 

"I  see  running  water,  grassy  banks,  trees,  the  birds, 
the  sky  and  the  clouds — the  water  shows  what's  above  it 
like  a  mirror,  Lily." 

Peaches  pointed.     Mickey  watched  intently. 

"Sure!"  he  cried.  "Little  fish  with  red  speckles  on 
them.  Shall  I  catch  you  one  to  see?" 

"Tain't  my  eyes  then?"  questioned  Peaches. 

"Your  eyes,  Miss?"  asked  Mickey  bewildered. 

"Tain't  my  eyes  seein'  things  that  yours  doesn't?" 

Mickey  took  her  hand  and  drew  closer. 

"Well  it  isn't  any  wonder  you  almost  doubt  it,  honey," 
he  said.  "I  would  too,  if  I  hadn't  ever  seen  it  before. 
But  I  been  on  the  trolley,  and  on  a  few  newsboys'  excur- 
sions, and  in  the  car  with  Mr.  Bruce,  and  I've  got  to  walk 
along  the  str — roads  some,  so  I  know  it's  real.  Let  me 
show  you !" 

Mickey  slipped  down  the  bank,  scooped  his  hands  full 
of  water,  and  lifted  them,  letting  it  drip  through  his  fingers. 


362  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Then  he  made  a  sweep  and  brought  up  one  of  the  fish, 
brightly  marked  as  a  flower,  and  gasping  in  the  air. 

"Look  quick!"  he  cried.  "See  it  good!  It's  used  to 
water  and  the  air  chokes  it,  just  like  the  water  would  you 
if  a  big  fish  would  take  you  and  hold  your  head  under; 
I  got  to  put  it  back  quick." 

"Mickey,  lay  it  in  my  hand,  just  a  little  bit!" 

Mickey  obeyed  while  Peaches  examined  it  hurriedly. 

"Put  it  back!"  she  cried.  "I  guess  that's  as  long  as  I'd 
want  to  be  choked,  while  a  fish  looked  at  me." 

Mickey  exchanged  the  fish  for  a  handful  of  wet,  vividly 
coloured  pebbles,  then  brought  a  bunch  of  cowslips  yellow 
as  gold,  and  a  long  willow  whip  with  leaves  on,  and  when 
she  had  examined  these,  she  looked  inquiringly  at  Mrs. 
Harding. 

"Nicest  lady,  may  I  put  my  feet  in  your  water?" 

"How  about  the  temperature  of  it,  Mickey?"  inquired 
Mrs.  Harding. 

"It's  all  right,"  said  Mickey.  "I've  washed  her  in 
colder  water  lots  of  times.  The  Sunshine  Lady  said  I 
should,  to  toughen  her  up." 

"Then  go  ahead,"  said  Mrs.  Harding. 

"Peter,  may  I?"  asked  Peaches. 

"Surely!"  agreed  Peter.  "Whole  bunch  may  get  in  if 
Ma  says  so!" 

"Well,  I  don't  say  so!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Harding.  "The 
children  have  their  good  clothes  on  and  they  always  get 
to  romping  and  dirty  themselves  and  then  it's  bigger 
washings  and  mine  are  enough  to  break  my  back  right 
now." 


A  PARTICULAR  NIX  363 

Peter  looked  at  his  wife  intently.  "Why  Nancy,  I 
hadn't  heard  you  complain  before!"  he  said.  "If  they're 
too  big,  we  must  wear  less  and  make  them  smaller,  and  I'll 
take  an  hour  at  the  machine,  and  Junior  can  turn  the 
wringer.  All  of  you  children  listen  to  me.  Your  Ma  is 
feeling  the  size  of  the  wash.  That  means  we  must  be 
more  careful  of  our  clothes  and  help  her  better.  If  Ma 
gets  sick,  or  tired  of  us,  we'll  be  in  a  fix,  I  tell  you!" 

"I  didn't  say  I  was  sick,  or  tired  of  you,  I'm  just  tired 
of  washing!"  said  Mrs.  Harding. 

"I  see!"  said  Peter.  "But  it  is  a  thing  that  has  got  to 
be  done,  like  plowing  and  sowing." 

"Yes  I  know,"  said  Mrs.  Harding,  "but  plowing  and 
sowing  only  come  once  a  year.  Washing  comes  once  and 
twice  a  week." 

"Let  me,"  said  Mickey.  "I  always  helped  mother,  and 
I  do  my  own  and  Lily's  at  home.  Of  course  I  will  here, 
and  I  can  help  you  a  lot  with  yours!" 

"Yes  a  boy!"  scoffed  Mrs.  Harding. 

"Well  I'll  show  you  that  a  boy  can  work  as  well  as  a 
girl,  if  he's  been  taught  right,"  said  Mickey. 

"I  wasn't  bringing  up  any  question  of  work,"  said  Mrs. 
Harding.  "I  just  didn't  want  the  children  to  dirty  a 
round  of  clothing  apiece.  They  may  wade  when  their 
things  are  ready  for  the  wash  anyway.  Go  on  Peaches!" 

Peter  moved  down  the  bank  and  prepared  to  lower  her 
to  the  water,  but  she  reached  her  arms  for  Mickey. 

"He  promised  me,"  she  said.  "Back  there  on  his  nice 
bed  in  the  hot  room  he  promised  me  this." 

"So  I  did,"  said  Mickey,  radiating  satisfaction  he  could 


364  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

not  conceal.  "So  I  did!  Now,  I'll  let  you  put  your  feet 
in,  like  I  said." 

"Will  the  fish  bite  me?"  she  questioned  timidly. 

"Those  little  things!     What  if  they  did?" 

Thus  encouraged  she  put  her  toes  in  the  water,  gripping 
Mickey  and  waiting  breathlessly  to  see  what  happened. 
Nothing  happened,  while  the  warm,  running  water  felt 
pleasant,  so  she  dipped  lower,  and  then  did  her  best  to 
make  it  splash.  It  wasn't  much  of  a  splash,  but  it  was  a 
satisfying  performance  to  the  parties  most  interested,  and 
from  their  eagerness  the  watchers  understood  what  it 
meant  to  them.  Junior  sidled  up  to  his  mother. 

"Ain't  that  tough?"  he  whispered. 

She  bit  her  lip  and  silently  nodded. 

"Look  at  her  feet,  will  you?"  he  breathed. 

She  looked  at  him  instead,  then  suddenly  her  eyes  filled 
with  a  mist  like  that  clouding  his. 

"  Think  they'll  ever  walk  ?"  he  questioned. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  said  softly,  "but  it  looks  as  if  God 
has  given  us  the  chance  to  make  them  if  it's  possible." 

"Well  say  what's  my  share?"  he  said. 

"Just  anything  you  see  that  you  think  will  help." 

"If  I  be  more  careful  not  to  dirty  so  many  clothes,  will 
it  help?"  he  asked. 

"It  would  leave  me  that  much  more  time  and  strength 
to  give  to  her,"  she  said. 

"Will  all  I  can  save  you  in  any  way  be  helping  her  that 
much?"  he  persisted. 

"Surely!"  she  said.  "Soon  as  he's  out  of  sight,  I'm 
going  to  begin  on  her.  But  don't  let  them  hear!" 


A  PARTICULAR  NIX  365 

Junior  nodded.  He  sat  down  on  the  bank  watching  as 
if  fascinated  the  feet  trying  to  splash  in  the  water.  Mickey 
could  feel  the  effort  of  the  small  body. 

"You  take  her  now,"  he  said  to  Peter.  Then  he  threw 
off  his  shoes  and  stockings,  turned  up  his  knee  breeches 
and  stepped  into  the  water,  where  he  helped  the  feet  to 
kick  and  splash.  He  rubbed  them  and  at  last  picked  up 
handfuls  of  fine  sand  and  lightly  massaged  with  it  until  he 
brought  a  pink  glow. 

"That's  the  stuff,"  indorsed  Peter.  "Look  at  that! 
You're  pulling  the  blood  down." 

"Where's  the  blood?"  asked  Peaches. 

Peter  explained  the  circulatory  system  and  why  all  the 
years  of  lying,  with  no  movement,  had  made  her  so  help- 
less. He  told  her  why  scarce  and  wrong  food  had  not 
made  good  blood  to  push  down  and  strengthen  her  feet  so 
they  would  walk.  He  told  her  the  friction  of  the  sand- 
rubbing  would  pull  it  down,  while  the  sun,  water,  and  earth 
would  help.  Peaches  with  wide  eyes  listened,  her  breath 
coming  faster  and  faster,  until  suddenly  she  leaned  forward 
and  cried:  "Rub,  Mickey!  Rub  'til  the  blood  flies!  Rub 
'em  hot  as  hell!" 

"Well,  Miss  Chicken!"  he  cried  in  despair. 

Peaches  buried  her  shamed  face  on  Peter's  breast.  He 
screened  her  with  a  big  hand. 

"Now  never  you  mind!  Never  you  mind!"  he  re- 
peated. "Everybody  turn  a  deaf  ear!  That  was  a  slip! 
Nobody  heard  it!  You  mean  Little  Butterfly  White, 
'rub  hard.'  Say  rub  hard  and  that  will  fix  it!" 

"Mickey,"  she  said  in  a  faint  voice  so  subdued  and  con- 


366  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

trite  as  to  be  ridiculous,  "Mickey-lovest,  won't  you  please 
to  rub  hard!     Rub  jus' as  hard!" 

Mickey  suddenly  bent  to  kiss  the  bony  little  foot  he  was 
chafing. 

"Yes  darling,  I'll  rub  'til  it  a-most  bleeds,"  he  said. 

When  the  feet  were  glowing  with  alternate  sand-rubbing 
and  splashing  in  cold  water,  Peter  looked  at  his  wife. 

"I  think  that's  the  ticket!"  he  said.  "Nancy,  don't 
you?  That  pulls  down  the  blood  with  rubbing,  and  drives 
it  back  with  the  cold  water,  and  pulls  it  down,  to  be  pushed 
back  again — ain't  that  helping  the  heart  get  in  its  work? 
Now  if  we  strengthen  her  with  right  food,  and  make  lots  of 
pure  blood  to  run  in  these  little  blue  canals  on  her  temples, 
and  hands  and  feet,  ain't  we  gaining  ground?  Ain't  we 
making  headway?" 

"We've  just  got  to  be,"  said  Mrs.  Harding.  "There  s 
no  other  way  to  figure  it.  But  this  is  enough  for  a 
start." 

Peaches  leaned  toward  her  and  asked:  '"May  we  do 
this  again  to-morrow,  nicest  lady?" 

"Well  I  can't  say  as  we  can  come  clear  here  every  day; 
I'm  a  busy  woman,  and  my  spare  time  is  scarce;  and  even 
light  as  you  are,  you'd  be  a  load  for  me;  I  can't  say  as  we 
can  do  this  when  Peter  is  busy  plowing  and  harvesting 
and  Junior  is  away  on  the  cream  wagon,  and  Mickey  is  in 
town  at  his  work;  we  can't  do  just  this;  but  there  is  some- 
thing we  can  do  that  will  help  the  feet  quite  as  much. 
We  can  bring  a  bucket  of  sand  up  to  the  house,  and  set  a 
tub  of  water  in  the  sun,  and  you  can  lie  on  a  comfort  under 
an  apple  tree  with  Mary  and  Bobbie  to  watch  you,  and 


A  PARTICULAR  NIX  367 

every  few  hours  we  can  take  a  little  time  off  for  rubbing 
and  splashing." 

"  My  job ! "  shouted  Junior.  "  I  get  a  bucket  and  carry 
up  the  sand!" 

"I  bring  the  tub  and  pump  the  water!"  cried  Mary. 

"Me  shoo  turkey!"  announced  Bobbie. 

"I  lift  the  tub  to  the  edge  of  the  shade  and  carry  out 
the  Butterfly!"  said  Peter. 

"And  where  do  I  come  in?"  demanded  Mickey. 

"Why  Mickey,  you  'let'  them!"  cried  Peaches.  "You 
'let'  them!  An'  you  earn  the  money  to  pay  for  the  new 
back,  when  I  get  strong  enough  to  have  it  changed,  an'  the 
Carrel  man  comes !  Don't  you  'member  ? " 

"Sure!"  boasted  Mickey,  taking  on  height.  "I  got  the 
biggest  job  of  all!  I  got  the  job  that  really  does  the  trick, 
and  to-morrow  I  get  right  after  it.  Now  I  must  take  you 
back  to  the  house  to  rest  a  while." 

"Aw  come  on  to  the  barn  with  me!"  begged  Junior. 
"Let  father  carry  her!  Ain't  you  going  to  be  any  com- 
pany for  me  at  all?" 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "Wait  a  minute!  I'd  like  to  go 
to  the  barn  with  you." 

He  dried  Peaches'  feet  with  his  handkerchief,  stuffed  his 
stockings  in  his  pocket,  and  picked  up  his  shoes. 

"  Lily,  can  you  let  Peter  take  you  back  to  rest  'til  supper 
time,  so  I  can  see  what  Junior  wants  to  show  me?" 

"Yes  I  can,"  said  Peaches.  "Yes  I  can,  'cause  I'm  a 
game  kid;  but  I  don't  wish  to!" 

"Now  you  look  here,  Miss  Chicken,  that  hasn't  got  any- 
thing to  do  with  it,"  explained  Mickey.  "Every  single 


368  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

time  you  can't  have  your  way,  'cause  it  ain't  good  for  you. 
If  all  these  nice  folks  are  so  kind  to  you,  you  must  think 
part  of  the  time  about  what  they  want,  and  just  now  Jun- 
ior wants  me,  so  you  march  right  along  nice  and  careful 
with  Peter,  and  pretty  soon  I'll  come." 

Peaches  pouted  a  second,  then  her  face  cleared  by  de- 
grees, until  it  lifted  to  Peter  with  a  smile. 

"  Peter,  will  you  please  to  carry  me  while  Mickey  does 
what  Junior  wants?"  she  asked  with  melting  sweetness. 

"Sure!"  said  Peter.  "I'm  the  one  to  take  you  anyway, 
big  and  strong  as  an  ox;  but  that's  a  pretty  way  to  ask,  and 
acting  like  a  nice  lady!" 

Peaches  radiated  pride  while  Peter  returned  her  to  the 
couch,  brought  her  a  glass  of  milk  and  a  cracker,  pulled  the 
shade,  and  going  out  softly  closed  the  door.  In  five  min- 
utes she  was  asleep. 

An  hour  before  supper  time  Mickey  appeared  and  with- 
out a  word  began  watching  Mrs.  Harding.  Suddenly  her 
work  lightened.  When  she  was  ready  for  water,  the 
bucket  was  filled,  saving  her  a  trip  to  the  pump.  When 
she  lifted  the  dishpan  and  started  toward  the  back  door, 
Mickey  met  her  with  the  potato  basket.  When  she 
glanced  questioningly  at  the  stove,  he  put  in  more  wood. 
He  went  to  the  dining-room  and  set  the  table  exactly  as  it 
had  been  for  dinner.  He  made  the  trip  to  the  cellar  with 
her  and  brought  up  bread  and  milk,  while  she  carried  but- 
ter and  preserves.  As  she  told  Peter  that  night,  no  strange 
woman  ever  had  helped  her  as  quickly  and  understand- 
ingly. 

With  dishwashing  he  was  on  hand,  for  he  knew  that 


A  PARTICULAR  NIX  369 

Peaches'  fate  hung  on  how  much  additional  work  was 
made  for  Mrs.  Harding.  That  surprised  woman  found 
herself  seated  in  a  cool  place  on  the  back  porch  preparing 
things  for  breakfast,  while  Mickey  washed  the  dishes,  and 
Mary  carried  them.  Peaches  was  moved  to  the  couch  in 
the  dining-room  where  she  could  look  on. 

Then  wrapped  in  Bobbie's  blanket  and  held  closely  in 
Mickey's  arms,  the  child  lay  quivering  with  delight  while 
the  big  car  made  the  trip  to  the  club  house,  and  stopped 
under  the  trees  to  show  Peaches  where  Mr.  Bruce  played, 
and  then  slowly  ran  along  the  country  road,  with  all  its  oc- 
cupants talking  at  once  in  their  effort  to  point  out  every- 
thing to  her.  No  one  realized  how  tired  she  was,  until  in 
calling  her  attention  to  a  colt  beside  its  mother,  she  made 
no  response,  then  it  was  discovered  that  she  was  asleep,  so 
they  took  her  home  and  put  her  to  bed. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE 

WHEN  Mickey  went  the  following  morning  to 
bring  water  for  the  inevitable  washing,  Mrs. 
Harding  said  to  him :  "  Is  it  possible  that  child 
is  awake  this  early?" 

"No.  She  is  sleeping  like  she'd  never  come  to,"  said 
Mickey.  "I'll  wait  'til  the  last  minute  before  I  touch  her." 

"You  shouldn't  wake  her,"  said  Mrs.  Harding. 

"But  I  must,"  said  Mickey.  "I  can't  go  away  and 
leave  her  not  washed,  fed,  and  fixed  the  best  I  can." 

"Of  course  I  understand  that,"  said  Mrs.  Harding,  "but 
now  it's  different.  Then  you  were  forced,  this  is  merely  a 
question  of  what  is  best  for  her.  Now  Mickey,  we're  all 
worked  up  over  this  till  we're  most  beside  ourselves,  so  we 
want  to  help;  suppose  you  humour  us,  by  letting  us  please 
ourselves  a  trifle.  How  does  that  proposition  strike  you : " 

"Square,  from  the  ground  up,"  answered  Mickey 
promptly.  "But  what  would  please  you?" 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Harding,  "it  would  please  me  to  keep 
this  house  quiet,  and  let  that  child  sleep  till  the  demands  of 
her  satisfied  body  wake  her  up.  Then  I'd  love  to  bathe  her 
as  a  woman  would  her  own,  in  like  case;  and  cook  her  such 
dainties  as  she  should  have:  things  with  lots  of  lime  in 
them.  I  think  her  bones  haven't  been  built  right;  I  be- 

570 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  371 

lieve  I  could  make  her  fifty  per  cent  better  in  three  months 
myself;  and  as  far  as  taking  her  away  when  this  week  is  up, 
you  might  as  well  begin  to  make  different  plans  right  now. 
If  she  does  well  here,  and  likes  it,  she  can't  be  taken  back 
where  I  found  her,  till  cool  weather,  if  I  can  get  the  consent 
of  my  mind  to  let  her  go  then.  Of  course  I  know  she's 
yours,  so  things  will  be  as  you  say,  but  think  a  while  before 
you  go  against  me.  If  I  do  all  I  can  for  her  I  ought  to  earn 
the  privilege  of  having  my  finger  in  the  pie  a  little  bit." 

"So  far  as  Lily  goes,"  said  Mickey,  "I'd  be  tickled 
'most  to  death.  I  ain't  anxious  to  pull  and  haul,  and 
wake  up  the  poor,  little  sleepy  thing.  Every  morning 
it  'most  makes  me  sick.  I'd  a  lot  rather  let  her  sleep  it  out 
as  you  say,  but  while  Lily  is  mine,  and  I've  got  to  do  the 
best  by  her  I  can,  you  are  Peter's  so  he  must  do  the  best  by 
you  he  can;  and  did  you  notice  how  he  jumped  on  that 
washing  business  yesterday?  How  we  going  to  square  up 
with  Peter?" 

"I'm  perfectly  willing  to  do  what  I  said  for  the  sake  of 
that  child.  I've  come  to  be  mighty  fond  of  you  Mickey, 
in  the  little  time  I've  known  you;  if  I  didn't  like  and  want 
to  help  Peaches  I'd  do  a  lot  for  her,  just  to  please  you 

"Gee,  you're  something  grand!"  cried  Mickey. 

"Just  common  clay,  commonest  kind  of  clay  Mickey," 
said  Mrs.  Harding.  "But  if  you  want  to  know  how  you 
could  'square'  it  with  me,  which  will  'square'  it  with 
Peter — I'll  tell  you.  You  may  think  I'm  silly;  but  as 
we're  made,  we're  made,  and  this  is  how  it  is  with  me :  of 
course  I  love  Peter,  my  children,  my  home,  and  I  love 
my  work;  but  I've  had  this  job  without  'jot  or  tittle'  of 


372  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

change  for  fifteen  years,  and  I'm  about  stalled  with  the 
sameness  of  it.  I  know  you'll  think  I'm  crazy " 

"I  won't!"  interrupted  Mickey.  "You  go  on  and  tell 
me!  The  sameness  of  it  is  getting  you  and " 

"Just  the  way  you  flew  around  and  did  things  last  night 
perfectly  amazed  me.  I  never  saw  a  boy  like  you  before; 
you  helped  me  better  and  with  more  sense  than  any 
woman  I  ever  hired,  and  thinking  it  over  last  night,  I  said 
to  myself,  'Now  if  Mickey  would  be  willing  to  trade  jobs 
with  me,  it  would  give  me  a  change,  and  it  wouldn't  be  any 
more  woman's  work  for  him  than  what  he  is  doing " 

"Well  never  you  mind  about  the  'woman's  work'  part 
of  it,"  said  Mickey.  "That  doesn't  cut  any  ice  with  me. 
It's  men's  work  to  eat,  and  I  don't  know  who  made  a  law 
that  it  was  any  more  'woman's  work'  to  cook  for  men  than 
it  is  their  own.  If  there  is  a  law  of  that  kind,  I  bet  a 
liberty-bird  the  men  made  it.  I  haven't  had  my  show  at 
law-making  yet,  but  when  I  get  it,  there  are  some  things 
I  can  see  right  now  that  I'm  going  to  fix  for  Lily,  and  I'd 
sooner  fix  them  for  you  too,  than  not.  Just  what  were 
you  thinking?" 

Mrs.  Harding  went  to  Mickey,  took  him  by  the  shoul- 
der, turned  him  toward  the  back  door  and  piloted  him 
to  the  porch,  where  she  pointed  east  indicating  an  open 
line.  It  began  as  high  as  his  head  against  the  side  of  the 
Harding  back  wall  and  ran  straight.  It  crossed  the  yard 
between  trees  that  through  no  design  at  all  happened  to 
stand  in  line  with  those  of  the  orchard  so  that  they  formed 
a  narrow  emerald  wall  on  each  side  of  a  green-carpeted 
space  that  led  to  the  meadow,  where  it  widened,  ran  down 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  373 

hill  and  crossed  lush  grass  where  cattle  grazed.  Then  it 
climbed  a  far  hill,  tree  crested,  cloud  capped,  and  in  a  mist 
of  glory  the  faint  red  of  the  rising  sun  worked  colour  mir- 
acles with  the  edges  of  cloud  rims,  tinted  them  with  flushes 
of  rose,  lavender,  streaks  of  vivid  red,  and  a  broad  stripe 
of  pale  green.  Alone,  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  stood  one 
giant  old  apple  tree,  the  remains  of  an  early-day  orchard. 
It  was  widely  branching,  symmetrically  outlined,  backed 
atid  coloured  by  cloud  wonder,  above  and  around  it.  The 
woman  pointed  down  the  avenue  with  a  shaking  finger,  and 
asked:  "See  that  Mickey?  Start  slow  and  get  all  of  it. 
Every  time  I've  stepped  on  this  back  porch  for  fifteen 
years,  summer  or  winter,  I've  seen  that  just  as  it  is  now 
or  as  it  was  three  weeks  ago  when  the  world  was  blooming, 
or  as  it  will  be  in  the  red  and  gold  of  fall,  or  the  later  grays 
and  browns,  and  when  it's  ice  coated,  and  the  sun  comes 
up,  I  think  sometimes  it  will  kill  me.  I've  neglected  my 
work  to  stand  staring,  many's  the  time  in  summer,  and 
I've  taken  more  than  one  chill  in  winter — I've  tried  to 
show  Peter,  and  a  few  times  I've  suggested " 

"He  ought  to  have  seen  for  himself  that  you  should 
have  had  a  window  cut  there  the  first  thing,"  said  Mickey. 

"Well,  he  didn't;  and  he  doesn't!"  said  Mrs.  Harding. 
"But  Mickey,  for  fifteen  years,  there  hasn't  been  a  single 
morning  when  I  went  to  the  back  porch  for  water " 

"And  you  ought  to  have  had  water  inside,  fifteen  years 
ago!"  cried  Mickey. 

"  Why  so  I  had  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Harding.  "And  come 
to  think  of  it,  I've  mentioned  that  to  Peter,  over  and  over, 
too.  But  Mickey,  what  I  started  to  say  was,  that  I've 


374  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

been  perfectly  possessed  to  follow  that  path  and  watch  the 
sun  rise  while  sitting  under  that  apple  tree;  and  never  yet 
have  I  got  to  the  place  where  there  wasn't  bread,  or  churn- 
ing, or  a  baby,  or  visitors,  or  a  wash,  or  ironing,  or  some 
reason  why  I  couldn't  go.  Maybe  I'm  a  fool,  but  sure  as 
you're  a  foot  high,  I've  got  to  take  that  trip  pretty  soon 
now,  or  my  family  is  going  to  see  trouble.  And  last  night 
thinking  it  over  for  the  thousandth  time  I  said  to  myself: 
since  he's  so  handy,  if  he'd  keep  things  going  just  one 
morning,  just  one  morning " 

Mickey  handed  her  a  sun  hat. 

"G'wan!"  he  said  gruffly.  "I'll  do  your  work,  and  I'll 
do  it  right.  Lily  can  have  her  sleep.  G'wan!" 

The  woman  hesitated  a  second,  pushed  away  the  hat, 
took  her  bearings  and  crossed  the  walk,  heading  directly 
toward  the  old  apple  tree  on  the  far  crest.  Her  eyes  were 
set  on  the  rising  sun,  and  as  she  turned  to  close  the  yard 
gate,  Mickey  could  see  that  there  was  an  awed,  unnatural 
expression  on  her  face.  He  stepped  into  the  dining-room. 
By  the  time  Peter  and  Junior  came  with  big  buckets  of 
milk,  Mickey  had  the  cream  separator  rinsed  and  together, 
as  he  had  helped  Mrs.  Harding  fix  it  the  day  before.  With 
his  first  glance  Peter  inquired:  "Where's  Ma?" 

"She's  doing  something  she's  been  crazy  to  for  fifteen 
years,"  answered  Mickey  calmly,  as  he  set  the  gauge  and 
poured  in  the  first  bucket  of  milk. 

"Which  ain't  answering  where  she  is." 

"So  'tain't!"  said  Mickey,  starting  the  machine.  "Well 
if  you'll  line  up,  I'll  show  you.  Train  your  peepers  down 
that  green  subway,  and  on  out  to  glory  as  presented  by 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  375 

the  Almighty  in  this  particular  stretch  of  country,  and 
just  beyond  your  cows  there  you'll  see  a  spot  about  as 
big  as  Bobbie,  and  that  will  be  your  nice  lady  heading 
straight  for  sunrise.  She  said  she'd  wanted  to  go  for  fif- 
teen years,  but  there  always  had  been  churning,  or  baking, 
or  something,  so  this  morning,  as  there  wasn't  a  thing 
but  what  I  could  do  as  good  as  she  could,  why  we  made  it 
up  that  I'd  finish  her  work  and  let  her  see  her  sunrise, 
since  she  seems  to  be  set  on  it;  and  when  she  gets  back 
she's  going  to  wash  and  dress  Lily  for  a  change.  Strange 
how  women  folks  get  discouraged  on  their  job,  among  their 
best  friends,  who  would  do  anything  in  the  world  for  them, 
'cept  just  to  see  that  a  little  bit  of  change  would  help 
them.  It  will  be  a  dandy  scheme  for  Lily,  'cause  it  lets 
her  get  her  sleep  out,  and  it  will  be  good  for  you,  'cause 
if  Mrs.  Harding  doesn't  get  to  sit  under  that  apple  tree 
and  watch  sunup  pretty  soon,  things  are  going  to  go 
wrong  at  this  house." 

Peter's  lower  jaw  slowly  sagged. 

"If  you  don't  hurry,"  said  Mickey,  "even  loving  her 
like  you  do,  and  loving  you  as  she  does,  she's  going  to 
have  them  nervous  prostrations  like  the  Swell  Dames  in 
Multiopolis  get  when  they  ask  a  fellow  to  carry  a  package, 
and  can't  remember  where  they  want  to  send  it.  She's 
not  there  yet.  She's  ahead  of  them  now,  for  she  wants  to 
sit  under  that  apple  tree  and  watch  sunup;  but  if  she 
hadn't  got  there  this  morning  or  soon  now,  she'd  a-begun 
to  get  mixed,  I  could  see  that  plain  as  the  City  Hall." 

"Mickey,  what  else  can  you  see?"  asked  Peter. 

"Enough  to  make  your  head  swim,"  said  Mickey. 


376  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Out  with  it!"  ordered  Peter. 

"Well,"  said  Mickey  gravely,  and  seemingly  intent 
on  the  separator,  but  covertly  watching  Peter,  "well,  if 
you'd  a-cut  that  window  she's  wanted  for  fifteen  years, 
right  over  her  table  there  where  the  line  comes,  she  could 
a-been  seeing  that  particular  bit  of  glory — you  notice 
Peter,  that  probably  there's  nothing  niftier  on  earth  than 
just  the  little  spot  she's  been  pining  for;  look  good  your- 
self, and  you'll  see,  there  she's  just  climbing  the  hill  to 
the  apple  tree — look  at  it  carefully,  and  then  step  inside 
and  focus  on  what  she's  faced  instead." 

"What  else  does  she  want?"  inquired  Peter. 

"She  didn't  mention  anything  but  to  watch  sunup,  just 
once,  under  that  apple  tree,"  said  Mickey.  "I  don't 
know  what  she  wants;  but  from  one  day  here,  I  could  tell 
you  things  she  should  have." 

"Well  go  ahead  and  tell,"  said  Peter. 

"Will  you  agree  not  to  break  my  neck  'til  I  get  this 
cream  in  the  can,  and  what  she  keeps  strained,  and  these 
buckets  washed?"  asked  Mickey.  "I  want  to  have  her 
job  all  done  when  she  gets  back,  'cause  I  promised  her,  and 
that's  quite  a  hike  she's  taking." 

"Well  I  was  'riled'  for  a  minute,  but  I  might  as  well  hold 
myself,"  said  Peter.  "Looks  like  you  were  right." 

"Strangers  coming  in  can  always  see  things  that  folks 
on  the  job  can't,"  consoled  Mickey. 

"Well  go  on  and  tell  me  what  you've  seen  here  Mickey!" 

Mickey  hoisted  the  fourth  bucket. 

"Well,  I've  seen  the  very  nicest  lady  I  ever  saw,  ex- 
cepting my  mother,"  said  Mickey.  "I've  seen  a  man 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  377 

'bout  your  size,  that  I  like  better  than  any  man  I  know, 
barring  Mr.  Douglas  Bruce,  and  the  bar  is  such  a  little 
one  it  would  take  a  microscope  to  find  it."  Peter  laughed, 
which  was  what  Mickey  hoped  he  would  do,  for  he  drew 
a  deep  breath  and  went  on  with  greater  assurance:  "I've 
seen  a  place  that  I  thought  was  a  new  edition  of  Heaven, 
and  it  is,  only  it  needs  a  few  modern  improvements '' 

"Yes  Mickey!     The  window,  and  what  else?" 

"You  haven't  looked  at  what  I  told  you  to  about  the 
window  yet,"  said  Mickey. 

"Well  since  you  insist  on  it,  I  will,"  said  Peter. 

"And  while  you  are  in  there,"  suggested  Mickey,  "after 
you  finish  with  that  strip  of  brown  oilcloth  and  the  pans 
and  skillets  adorning  it,  cotton  up  to  that  cook  stove, 
and  imagine  standing  over  it  while  it  is  roaring,  to  get 
three  meals  a  day,  and  all  the  baking,  fruit  canning,  boil- 
ing clothes,  and  such,  and  tell  me  if  Lily's  bed  was  in 
so  much  hotter  a  place  than  your  wife  is,  all  but  about 
three  hours  each  day." 

Mickey  listened  as  intently  as  he  could  for  the  sepa- 
rator he  dared  not  stop,  heard  not  a  sound  for  what 
seemed  a  long  time,  and  then  came  amazing  ones.  He 
grinned  sympathetically  as  Peter  emerged  red  faced  and 
raging. 

"And  you're  about  the  finest  man  I  ever  met,  too," 
commented  Mickey,  still  busy  with  the  cream.  "You  can 
see  what  a  comfort  this  separator  must  be,  but  it's  the 
only  thing  your  nice  lady  has  got,  against  so  many  for 
your  work  it  takes  quite  a  large  building  to  keep  them  in. 
Junior  was  showing  me  last  night  and  telling  me  what  all 


378  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

those  machines  were  made  for.  You  know  Peter,  if  there 
was  money  for  a  hay  rake,  and  a  manure  spreader,  and  a 
wheel  plow,  and  a  disk,  and  a  reaper,  and  a  mower,  and  a 
corn  planter,  and  a  corn  cutter,  and  a  cider  press,  and  a 
windmill,  and  a  silo,  and  an  automobile — you  know  Peter, 
there  should  have  been  enough  for  that  window,  and  the 
pump  inside,  and  a  kitchen  sink,  and  a  bread-mixer,  and  a 
dish-washer;  and  if  there  wasn't  any  other  single  thing, 
there  ought  to  be  some  way  you  sell  the  wood,  and  use  the 
money  for  the  kind  of  a  summer  stove  that's  only  hot 
under  what  you  are  cooking,  and  turns  off  the  flame  the 
minute  you  finish.  Honest  there  had  Peter!  I  got  a 
little  gasoline  one  in  my  room  that's  better  than  what  your 
nice  lady  has.  The  things  she  should  have  would  cost 
something,  cost  a  lot  for  all  I  know,  but  I  bet  wrhat  she 
needs  wouldn't  take  half  the  things  in  the  building  Junior 
showed  me  did;  and  it  couldn't  be  the  start  of  what  a  sick 
wife,  and  doctor  bills,  and  strange  women  coming  and  go- 
ing, and  abusing  you  and  the  children  would  cost 

"Shut  up!"  cried  Peter.  "That  will  do!  Now  you  lis- 
ten to  me  young  man.  Since  you  are  so  expert  at  seeing 
things,  and  since  you've  traded  work  with  my  wife,  to  rest 
her  by  changing  her  job,  suppose  you  just  keep  your  eyes 
open,  and  make  out  a  list  of  what  she  should  have  to  do 
her  work  convenient  and  easy  as  can  be,  and  of  course, 
comfortably.  That  stove's  hot  yet!  And  breakfast  been 
over  an  hour  too!  Nothing  like  it  must  be  going  full  blast, 
and  things  steaming  and  frying!" 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey. 

"Watch  a  few  days,  and  then  we'll  talk  it  over.     If  it 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  379 

is  your  train  time,  ride  down  with  Junior,  and  I'll  stay  in 
the  house  till  she  comes.  I  guess  Little  White  Butterfly 
won't  wake  up;  and  if  she  does,  she'll  be  all  right  with  me. 
Mary  dresses  herself  and  Bobbie.  Is  Mary  helping  her 
Ma  right?" 

"Well  some,"  said  Mickey.  "Not  all  she  could!  But 
her  taking  care  of  Bobbie  is  a  big  thing.  Junior  could  do 
a  lot  of  things,  but  he  doesn't  seem  to  see  them,  and " 

"And  so  could  I?"  asked  Peter.     "Is  that  the  ticket?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mickey. 

"All  right  young  man,"  said  Peter.  "Fix  us  over! 
We  are  ready  for  anything  that  will  benefit  Ma.  She's 
the  pinwheel  of  this  place.  Now  you  scoot!  I  can  see 
her  coming." 

"It's  our  secret  then?"  asked  Mickey. 

"Yes,  it's  our  secret!"  answered  Peter  gravely. 

Mickey  took  one  long  look  at  Peaches  and  went  running 
to  the  milk  wagon.  Junior  offered  to  let  him  drive,  so  for 
the  first  time  he  took  the  lines  and  guided  a  horse.  He 
was  a  happy  boy  as  he  spun  on  his  heel  waiting  a  few 
minutes  for  the  trolley.  He  sat  in  the  car  with  no  paper 
in  which  to  search  for  headlines,  no  anxiety  as  to  whether 
he  could  dispose  of  enough  to  keep  Peaches  from  hunger 
that  night,  sure  of  her  safety  and  comfort.  The  future,  col- 
oured by  what  Mrs.  Harding  had  said  to  him,  took  on  such 
a  rosy  glow  it  almost  hurt  his  mental  eyes.  He  revelled 
in  greater  freedom  from  care  than  he  ever  had  known. 
He  sat  straighter,  and  curiously  watched  the  people  in  the 
car.  When  they  entered  the  city  and  the  car  swung  down 
his  street  near  the  business  centre,  Mickey  stepped  off  and 


38o  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

hiding  himself  watched  for  the  passing  of  the  boy,  on  his 
old  route.  Before  long  it  came,  "I  like  to  sell  papers,"  in 
such  good  imitation  of  his  tone  and  call  that  Mickey's  face 
grew  grave  and  a  half-jealous  little  ache  began  in  his 
heart. 

"Course  we're  better  off,"  he  commented.  "Course 
I  can't  go  back  now,  and  I  wouldn't  if  I  could;  but  it 
makes  me  want  to  swat  any  fellow  using  my  call,  and 
taking  my  men.  Gee,  the  kid  is  doing  better  than  I 
thought  he  could!  B'lieve  he's  got  the  idea  all  right.  I'll 
just  join  the  procession." 

Mickey  stepped  into  line  and  followed,  pausing  when- 
ever a  paper  was  sold,  until  he  was  sure  that  his  men  were 
patronizing  his  substitute,  then  he  overtook  him. 

"Good  work,  kid!"  he  applauded.  "Been  following 
you  and  you're  doing  well.  Lemme  take  a  paper  a  second. 
Yes,  I  thought  so!  You're  leaving  out  the  biggest  scoop 
on  the  sheet!  Here,  give  them  a  laugh  on  this  'Chasing 
Wrinkles.'  How  did  you  come  to  slide  over  it  and  not 
bump  enough  to  wake  you  up.  Get  on  this  sub-line, 
'Males  seeking  beauty  doctors  to  renew  youth. "! 

"How  would  you  cry  it?"  asked  the  boy. 

"Aw  looky!  Looky!  Looky!"  Mickey  shouted,  hold- 
ing his  side  with  one  hand  and  waving  a  paper  with  the 
other.  "All  the  old  boys  hiking  to  the  beauty  parlours. 
Pinking  up  the  glow  of  youth  to  beat  Billie  Burke.  Cor- 
ner on  icicles;  Billie  gets  left,  'cause  the  boys  are  using  all 
of  them!  Oh  my!  Wheel  o'  time  oiled  with  cold  cream 
and  reversed  with  an  icicle!  Morning  paper!  Tells  you 
how  to  put  the  cream  on  your  face  'stead  of  in  the  coffee! 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  38r 

Stick  your  head  in  the  ice  box  at  sixty,  and  come  out  six- 
teen !  Awah  get  in  line,  gentlemen !  Don't  block  traffic !" 

When  the  policemen  scattered  the  crowd  Mickey's  sub- 
stitute had  not  a  paper  remaining.  With  his  pocket 
full  of  change  he  was  running  to  the  nearest  stand  for  a 
fresh  supply.  Mickey  went  with  him  and  watched  with 
critical  eye  while  the  boy  tried  a  reproduction  of  what  he 
called  "a  daily  scream!"  The  first  time  it  was  rather 
flat. 

"You  ain't  going  at  it  right!"  explained  Mickey.  "'Fore 
you  can  make  anybody  laugh  on  this  job,  you  must  see 
the  fun  of  life  yourself.  Beauty  parlours  have  always 
been  for  the  Swell  Dames  and  the  theatre  ladies,  who 
pink  up,  while  their  gents  hump  to  pay  the  bill.  You 
ought  always  take  one  paper  home,  and  read  it,  so  you 
know  what's  going  on  in  the  world.  Now  from  what 
I've  read,  I  know  that  the  get-a-way  of  the  beauty  par- 
lours is  cold  cream.  And  one  of  the  show  ladies  the  boys 
are  always  wild  over  told  the  papers  long  ago  'bout  how 
she  used  icicles  on  her  face  to  pink  it  up.  Now  if  you'd 
a-knowed  this  like  you  should,  the  minute  you  clapped 
your  peepers  on  that,  'Chasing  Wrinkles,'  you'd  a-knowed 
where  your  laugh  came  in  to-day,  like  I've  told  you  over 
and  over  you  must  get  it.  Bet  Chaffner  put  that  there  on 
purpose  for  me.  Which  same  gives  me  an  idea.  You 
been  calling  the  Hoc  de  Geezer  war,  and  the  light-weight 
champeen  of  Mexico,  and  'the  psychological  panic'  some- 
thing fine;  but  did  you  sell  out  on  them?  Not  on  your 
topknot!  You  lost  your  load  on  the  scream.  Get  the  joke 
of  life  soaked  in  your  system  good.  On  this,  you  make  your- 


MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

self  see  the  plutes,  and  the  magnates,  and  the  city  officials 
leaving  their  jobs,  and  hiking  to  the  beauty  parlours,  to 
beat  the  dames  at  their  daily  stunt  of  being  creamed  and 
icicled  and — it's  funny!  When  it's  so  funny  to  you  that 
you  just  howl  about  it,  why  it's  catching!  Didn't  you  see 
me  catch  them  with  it?  Now  go  on  and  do  it  again,  and 
get  the  scream  in." 

The  boy  began  the  cry  with  tears  of  laughter  in  his  eyes. 
He  kept  it  up  as  he  handed  out  papers  and  took  in  change. 
Satisfied,  Mickey  called  to  him:  "Tell  your  sire  it's  all 
over  but  polishing  the  silver." 

He  started  down  the  street  glancing  at  clocks  he  was 
passing,  with  nimble  feet  threading  the  crowds  until  he 
reached  the  Herald  office;  there  he  dodged  in  and  making 
his  way  to  the  editorial  desk  he  waited  his  chance.  When 
he  saw  an  instant  of  pause  in  the  work  of  the  busy  man, 
he  started  his  cry :  "  Morning  papers !  I  like  to  sell  them ! " 
and  so  on  to  the  "Chasing  Wrinkles."  There  because  he 
was  excited,  for  he  knew  that  his  reception  would  depend 
on  how  good  a  laugh  he  gave  them,  Mickey  outdid  himself. 
Reporters  waiting  assignments  crowded  around  him;  Mr. 
Chaffner  beckoned,  and  Mickey  stepped  to  him. 

"Found  it  all  right,  did  you,  young  man?" 

"The  scream  lifted  the  load!"  cried  Mickey.  "War, 
and  waste,  and  wickedness,  didn't  get  a  look  in." 

"I  thought  you'd  like  that!"  laughed  the  editor. 

"Biggest  scoop  yet!"  said  Mickey.  "Why  it  took  the 
police  to  scatter  the  crowd.  They  struggled  to  get  papers, 
'til  they  looked  like  the  bird  on  the  coin  they  were  passing 
in,  trying  to  escape  the  awful  things  it  goes  through  on  the 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  383 

money,  and  get  back  to  nature  where  perfectly  good  birds 
belong.  Honest,  they  did!" 

"Have  you  any  poetry  for  me  yet?" 

"No,  but  I'm  headed  that  way,"  answered  Mickey. 

"How  so?"  inquired  the  editor. 

"Why  I've  got  another  kid  so  he  can  do  my  stunt  'til 
nobody  knows  the  difference,  and  I've  gone  into  Mr. 
Bruce's  office,  and  we're  after  the  grafters." 

"Douglas  Bruce?"  queried  Mr.  Chaffner. 

"Yes,"  said  Mickey.  "He's  my  boss,  and  say,  he's  the 
finest  man  you  ever  met;  and  his  Joy  Lady  is  nice  as  he  is, 
and  prettier  than  moonshine  on  the  park  lake.  I  never 
saw  a  lady  who  could  hold  a  candle  to  Miss  Leslie  Winton, 
and  they  just  love  to  tell  folks  they're  engaged." 

Suddenly  the  editor  arose  from  his  chair,  gripped  his 
desk,  leaned  across  it  toward  Mickey,  and  almost  knocked 
him  from  his  feet  with  one  word. 

"What?" 

Mickey  staggered.     At  last  he  recovered  his  breath. 

"Mr.  Bruce  and  Miss  Leslie  don't  care  if  I  tell  it,"  he 
defended.  "They  all  the  time  tell  it!" 

"What?" 

"Why  that  they  are  going  to  be  married,  soon  as  Mr. 
Bruce  gets  the  grafter  who's  robbing  the  taxpayers  of  Mul- 
tiopolis,  and  collects  his  big  fee.  That's  what." 

As  suddenly  as  he  had  arisen  Mr.  Chaffher  dropped 
back,  and  in  a  stupefied  way  still  looked  at  Mickey.  Then: 
"You  come  with  me,"  Mr.  Chaffner  said  rising,  and  he  en- 
tered a  small  room  and  closed  the  door. 

"Now  you  tell  me  all  about  this  engagement." 


384  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Maybe  they  don't  want  it  in  the  papers  yet,"  said 
Mickey.  "I  guess  I'll  let  Mr.  Bruce  do  his  own  talk- 
ing." 

"But  you  said  they  told  everybody." 

"So  they  do,"  said  Mickey.  "And  of  course  they'd  tell 
you.  You  can  call  him.  His  number  is  5OO-X." 

The  editor  made  a  note  of  it,  studying  Mickey. 

"Yes,  that  would  be  the  better  way,  of  course,"  he 
agreed.  "You  have  a  long  head,  young  man.  And  so 
you  think  Miss  Leslie  Winton  is  a  fine  young  lady?" 

"Surest  thing  you  know,"  said  Mickey.  "Why  let  me 
tell  you " 

And  then  in  a  few  swift  words,  Mickey  sketched  in  the 
young  woman  so  intelligent  she  had  selected  him  from  all 
the  other  "newsies"  by  a  description,  and  sent  him  to 
Mr.  Bruce;  how  she  had  dolls  ready  to  give  away,  and  poor 
children  might  ride  in  her  car;  how  she  lived  with  "darling 
old  Daddy,"  and  there  Mickey  grew  enthusiastic,  and  told 
of  the  rest  house,  and  then  the  renting  of  the  cabin  on  At- 
water  by  the  most  considerate  of  daughters  for  her  father 
and  her  lover,  and  when  he  could  not  think  of  another  com- 
mendatory word  to  say,  Mickey  paused,  while  a  dazed  man 
muttered  a  word  so  low  the  boy  scarcely  heard  it. 

"I  don't  know  why  you  say  that  /"  cried  Mickey. 

"Ommh!"  said  Mr.  Chaffher,  slowly.  "I  don't  either, 
only  I  didn't  understand  they  were  engaged.  It's  my  busi- 
ness to  find  and  distribute  news,  and  get  it  fresh,  'scoop  it/ 
as  our  term  is,  and  so,  Mickey,  when  investigations  are 
going  on,  and  everybody  knows  a  denou — a  big  surprise 
is  coming,  in  order  to  make  sure  that  my  paper  gets  in  on 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  385 

the  ground  floor,  I  make  some  investigation  for  myself, 
and  sometimes  by  accident,  sometimes  by  intuition,  some- 
times by  sharp  deduction  we  happen  to  land  before  the  in- 
vestigators. Of  course  we  have  personal,  financial,  and 
political  reasons  for  not  spoiling  the  game.  Now  we 
haven't  gone  into  the  City  Hall  investigation  as  Bruce  has 
and  we  can't  show  figures,  but  we  know  enough  to  under- 
stand where  he's  coming  out;  so  when  the  gig  upsets,  we 
have  our  side  ready  and  we'll  embroider  his  figures  with 
what  the  public  is  entitled  to,  in  the  way  of  news." 

"Sure!     But  I  don't  see  why  you  act  so  funny!" 

"Oh  it's  barely  possible  that  I've  got  ahead  of  your  boss; 
on  a  few  features  of  his  investigation." 

"Aw-w-wh!"  said  Mickey.  "Well  I  hope  you  ain't 
going  to  rush  in  and  spoil  his  scoop.  You  see  he  doesn't 
know  who  he's  after,  himself.  We  talk  about  it  a  lot  of 
times.  I  tell  him  how  I've  sold  papers,  and  seen  men  like 
he's  chasing  get  their  dose,  and  go  sick  and  white,  and 
can't  ever  face  men  straight  again;  but  he  says  stealing  is 
stealing,  and  cut  where  it  will,  those  who  rob  the  tax- 
payers must  be  exposed.  I  told  him  maybe  he'd  be  sur- 
prised, and  maybe  he'd  be  sorry;  but  he  says  it's  got  to  be 
stopped,  no  matter  who  gets  hurt." 

"Well  he's  got  his  nerve!"  cried  the  editor. 

"Yes!"  agreed  Mickey.  "He's  so  fine  himself,  he 
thinks  no  other  men  worth  saving  could  go  wrong.  I  told 
him  I  wished  the  men  he  was  after  would  break  their  necks 
'fore  he  gets  them,  but  he  goes  right  on." 

"Mickey,  you  figure  closer  than  your  boss  does." 

"In  one  way  I  do"  conceded  Mickey.     "It's  like  this: 


386  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

he  knows  books,  and  men,  and  how  things  should  be;  but  I 
know  how  they  are.  See?" 

"I  certainly  see,"  said  the  intent  listener.  "Mickey, 
when  it  comes  to  the  place  where  you  think  you  know  bet- 
ter than  your  boss,  while  it's  bad  business  for  me  to  tell 
you,  keep  your  eye  open,  and  maybe  you  can  save  him. 
Books  and  theories  are  all  right,  but  there  are  times  when 
a  man  comes  a  cropper  on  them.  You  watch,  and  if  you 
think  he's  riding  for  a  fall,  you  come  skinning  and  tell  me, 
not  over  the  'phone,  come  and  tell  me.  Here,  take  this,  it 
will  get  you  to  me  any  time,  no  matter  where  I  am  or  what 
I'm  doing.  Understand?" 

"You  think  Mr.  Bruce  is  going  to  get  into  trouble?" 

"His  job  is  to  get  other  people  into  trouble — 

"But  he  says  he  ain't  got  a  thing  to  do  with  it,"  said 
Mickey.  "He  says  they  get  themselves  into  trouble." 

"That's  so  too,"  commented  Mr.  Chaffner.  "Anyway, 
keep  your  mouth  tight  shut,  and  your  eyes  wide  open,  and 
if  you  think  your  boss  is  getting  into  deep  water,  you  come 
and  tell  me.  I  want  things  to  go  right  with  you,  because 
I'm  depending  on  that  poem  for  my  front  page,  soon." 

Mickey  held  out  his  hand. 

" Sure ! "  he  agreed.  "  I'm  in  an  awful  good  place  now  to 
work  up  the  poetry  piece,  being  right  out  among  the  cows 
and  clover.  And  about  Mr.  Bruce,  gee!  I  wish  he  was 
plowing  corn.  I  just  hate  his  job  he's  doing  now.  Sure 
if  I  see  rocks  I'll  make  a  run  for  you.  Thanks  Boss!" 

Mickey  had  lost  time,  and  he  hurried,  but  things  seemed 
to  be  happening,  for  as  he  left  the  elevator  and  sped  down 
the  hall,  he  ran  into  Mr.  James  Minturn.  With  a  hasty 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  387 

glance  he  drew  back,  and  darted  for  the  office  door.     Mr. 
Minturn's  face  turned  a  dull  red. 

"One  minute,  young  man!"  he  called. 

"  I'm  late,"  said  Mickey  shortly.     "  I  must  hurry." 

"  Bruce  is  late  too.  I  just  came  from  his  office  and  he 
isn't  there,"  answered  Mr.  Minturn. 

"Well  I  want  to  get  it  in  order  before  he  comes." 

"  In  fact  you  want  anything  but  to  have  a  word  to  say  to 
me!"  hazarded  Mr.  Minturn. 

"Well  then,  since  you  are  such  a  good  guesser,  I  ain't 
just  crazy  about  you,"  said  Mickey  shortly. 

"And  I'm  tired  of  having  you  run  from  me  as  if  I  were 
afflicted  with  smallpox,"  said  Mr.  Minturn. 

"If  your  blood  is  right,  smallpox  ain't  much,"  said 
Mickey.  "I  haven't  a  picture  of  myself  running  from 
that,  if  it  really  wanted  a  word  with  me." 

"  But  you  have  a  picture  of  yourself  running  from  me?" 

"Maybe  I  do,"  conceded  Mickey. 

"I've  noticed  it  on  occasions  so  frequent  and  conspicu- 
ous that  others,  no  doubt,  will  do  the  same,"  said  Mr.  Min- 
turn. "If  you  are  all  Bruce  thinks  you,  then  you  should 
give  a  man  credit  for  what  he  tries  to  do.  You  surprised 
me  too  deeply  for  words  with  the  story  you  brought  me  one 
day.  I  knew  most  of  your  facts  from  experience,  better 
than  you  did,  except  the  one  horrible  thing  that  shocked 
me  speechless;  but  Mickey,  when  I  had  time  to  adjust  my- 
self, I  made  the  investigations  you  suggested,  and  proved 
what  you  said.  I  deserve  your  scorn  for  not  acting  faster, 
but  what  I  had  to  do  couldn't  be  done  in  a  day,  and  for  the 
boys'  sake  it  had  to  be  done  as  privately  as  possible. 


388  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

There's  no  longer  any  reason  why  you  should  regard  me  as 


a  monster 

"I'm  awful  glad  you  told  me,"  Mickey  said.  "I  surely 
did  have  you  sized  up  something  scandalous.  And  yet  I 
^couldn't  quite  make  out  how,  if  my  view  was  right,  Mr. 
Bruce  and  Miss  Leslie  would  think  so  much  of  you." 

"They  are  friends  I'm  proud  to  have,"  said  Mr.  Min- 
turn.  "And  I  hope  you'll  consider  being  a  friend  to  me, 
and  to  my  boys  also.  If  ever  a  time  comes  when  I  can  do 
.anything  for  you,  let  me  know." 

"Now  right  on  that  point,  pause  a  moment,"  said 
Mickey.  "You  are  a  friend  to  my  boss?" 

"I  certainly  am,  and  I'm  under  deep  obligations  to  Miss 
Winton.  If  ever  my  home  becomes  once  more  what  it 
was  to  start  with,  it  will  be  her  work.  Could  a  man  bear 
heavier  obligation  than  that?" 

"Well  hardly,"  said  Mickey.  "Course  there  wouldn't 
likely  ever  be  anything  you  could  do  for  Miss  Leslie  that 
would  square  that  deal;  but  I'm  worried  about  my  boss 
something  awful." 

"Why  Mickey?"  asked  Mr.  Minturn. 

"That  investigation  you  started  him  on.'\ 

"I  did  start  him  on  that.     What's  the  matter?" 

"Well  the  returns  are  about  all  in,"  said  Mickey,  "and 
the  man  who  draws  the  candy  suit  is  about  ready  to  put 
it  on.  See?" 

"Good!     Exactly  what  he  should  do." 

"Yes  exactly,"  agreed  Mickey  dryly,  "but  who  do 
you  figure  it  is?  We  got  some  good  friends  in  the  City 
Hall." 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  389 

"Always  is  somebody  you  don't  expect,"  said  Mr.  Min- 
turn.  "Don't  waste  any  sympathy  on  them,  Mickey." 

"Not  unless  in  some  way  my  boss  got  himself  into 
trouble,"  said  Mickey. 

"There's  no  possible  way  he  could." 

"About  the  smartest  man  in  Multiopolis  thinks  yes," 
said  Mickey.  "I  just  been  talking  with  him." 

"Who,  Mickey?"  asked  Mr.  Minturn,  instantly. 

"Chaffner  of  the  Herald,"  said  Mickey. 

"What!" 

Mr.  Minturn  seized  the  boy's  arm,  shoved  him  insid* 
his  door  and  closed  it.  Mickey  pulled  away  and  turned  a 
belligerent  face  upward. 

"Now  nix  on  knocking  me  down  with  your  'whats!" 
he  cried.     "I  just  been  hammered  meller  with  his,  and 
dragged  into  his  room,  and  shut  up,  and  scared  stiff,  about 
twenty  minutes  ago." 

"  The  devil  you  say  !  "  exploded  Mr.  Minturn. 

"  No,  I  said  Chaffner ! "  insisted  Mickey.  "  Chaffner  of  the 
Herald.  I'm  going  to  write  a  poetry  piece  for  his  front  page, 
some  day  soon  now.  I  been  selling  his  paper  all  my  life." 

"And  so  you're  a  friend  of  Chaffner's?" 

"Oh  not  bosom  and  inseparable,"  explained  Mickey. 
"I  haven't  seen  so  awful  much  of  him,  but  when  I  do,  we 
get  along  fine." 

"And  he  said ?"  questioned  Mr.  Minturn. 

"Just  what  I  been  afraid  of  all  the  time,"  said  Mickey. 
"That  these  investigations  at  times  got  into  places  you 
didn't  look  for,  and  made  awful  trouble;  and  that  my  boss 
might  get  it  with  his." 


390  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Mickey,  you  will  promise  me  something?"  asked  Mr. 
Minturn.  "You  see  I  started  Mr.  Bruce  on  this  trying  to 
help  him  to  a  case  that  would  bring  him  into  prominence, 
so  if  it  should  go  wrong,  it's  in  a  way  through  me.  If  you 
think  Douglas  is  unlike  himself,  or  worried,  will  you  tell 
me?  Will  you?" 

"Why  surest  thing  you  know!"  cried  Mickey.  "Why 
I  should  say  I  would!  Gee,  you're  great  too!  I  think  I'll 
like  you  awful  well  when  we  get  acquainted." 

Mickey  was  busy  when  Bruce  entered,  and  with  him 
was  Leslie  Winton.  They  brought  the  breath  of  spring 
mellowing  into  summer,  freighted  with  emanations  of  real 
love,  touched  and  tinctured  with  joy  so  habitual  it  had 
become  spontaneous  on  the  part  of  Leslie  Winton,  and  this 
morning  contagious  with  Douglas  Bruce.  Mickey  stood 
silent,  watched  them  closely,  and  listened.  So  in  three 
minutes,  from  ragged  scraps  and  ejaculations  effervescing 
from  what  was  running  over  in  their  brains,  he  knew  that 
they  had  taken  an  early  morning  plunge  into  Atwater, 
landed  a  black  bass,  had  a  breakfast  of  their  own  making, 
at  least  in  so  far  as  gathering  wild  red  raspberries  from  the 
sand  pit  near  the  bridge;  and  then  they  had  raced  to  the 
Multiopolis  station  to  start  Mr.  Winton  on  a  trip  west  to 
try  to  sell  his  interest  in  some  large  land  holdings  there,  the 
care  of  which  he  was  finding  burdensome. 

"Heavens,  how  I  hope  Daddy  makes  that  sale!"  cried 
Leslie.  "I've  been  so  worried  about  him  this  summer." 

"I  wondered  at  you  not  going  with  him,"  said  Douglas. 

"He  didn't  seem  to  want  me,"  said  Leslie.  "He  said  it 
was  a  flying  trip  and  he  was  forced  to  be  back  before  some 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  391 

reports  from  his  office  were  filed;  so  he  thought  I  wouldn't 
enjoy  it;  and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  he  told  me  dis- 
tinctly that  he  didn't  have  time  for  me.  Fancy  Daddy! 
I  can't  understand  it." 

"I've  noticed  that  he  has  been  brooding  and  pre- 
occupied of  late,  not  at  all  like  himself,"  said  Douglas. 
"Have  you  any  idea  what  troubles  him?" 

"Of  course!  He  told  me!"  said  Leslie.  "It's  Mr. 
Swain.  When  Daddy  was  a  boy,  Mr.  Swain  was  his 
father's  best  friend,  and  when  grandfather  died,  he  asked 
him  to  guide  Daddy,  and  he  not  only  did  that,  but  he 
opened  his  purse  and  started  him  in  business.  Now  Mr. 
Swain  is  growing  old,  and  some  of  his  investments  have 
gone  wrong;  just  when  political  changes  made  business 
close  as  could  be,  he  lost  heavily;  and  then  came  the  war. 
There  was  no  way  but  for  Daddy  to  stay  here  and  fight 
to  save  what  he  could  for  him.  He  told  me  early  last 
fall;  we  talked  of  it  again  in  the  winter,  and  this  spring 
most  of  all — I've  told  you!" 

"Yes  I  know!     I  wish  I  could  help!"  said  Douglas. 

"I  do  too!  I  wish  it  intensely,"  said  Leslie.  "When 
father  comes,  we'll  ask  him.  We're  young  and  strong, 
and  we  should  stand  by.  I  never  saw  Daddy  in  such  a 
state.  He  must  sell  that  land.  He  said  so.  He  said 
last  night  he'd  be  forced  to  sell  if  he  only  got  half  its 
value,  and  that  wouldn't  be  enough." 

"Enough  for  what?"  asked  Douglas. 

"To  help  Mr.  Swain,"  said  Leslie. 

"He's  going  to  use  his  fortune?"  queried  Douglas. 

"I  don't  know  that  Daddy  has  holdings  large  enough  to 


392  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

deserve  the  word,"  said  Leslie.  "He's  going  to  use  what 
he  has.  I  urged  him  to;  it's  all  he  can  do." 

"Did  you  take  into  consideration  that  it  may  end  in  his 
failure?"  asked  Douglas. 

"I  did,"  said  Leslie,  "and  I  forgot  to  tell  him,  but  I  will 
as  soon  as  he  comes  back:  he  can  have  all  mother  left  me, 
too,  if  he  needs  it." 

"Leslie,  you're  a  darling,  but  have  you  ever  had  even  a 
small  taste  of  poverty?"  asked  Douglas. 

"No!  But  I've  always  been  curious,  if  I  did  have,  to 
see  if  I  couldn't  so  manage  whatever  might  be  my  share, 
that  it  would  appear  to  the  world  without  that  peculiar 
state  of  grime  which  always  seems  to  distinguish  it,"  said 
the  girl.  "I'm  not  afraid  of  poverty,  and  I'm  not  afraid 
of  work;  it's  dishonour  that  would  kill  me.  Daddy  ac- 
cepted obligations;  if  they  involve  him,  which  includes 
me  also,  then  to  the  last  cent  we  possess,  we  pay 
back." 

Mickey  drew  the  duster  he  handled  between  vacuum 
days  across  a  table  and  steadily  watched  first  Douglas, 
then  Leslie,  both  of  whom  had  forgotten  him. 

"That  should  be  good  enough  for  Daddy;  what  about 
me  ? "  asked  Douglas.  "  If  ever  I  get  in  a  close  place,  does 
the  same  hold  good?" 

"If  I  know  what  you  are  doing,  surely!" 

"I  knew  you  were  a  '  Bearer  of  Morning'  first  time  I  saw 
you,"  said  Douglas.  "  But  we  are  forgetting  Mickey." 

Mickey  promptly  stepped  forward,  putting  away  the 
duster  to  be  ready  for  errands. 

"How  are  you  this  morning?"  asked  Douglas. 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  393 

"Fine!"  answered  Mickey.  "I've  taken  my  family  to 
the  country,  too!" 

"Why  Mickey!  without  saying  a  word!"  cried  Douglas. 

"Well  it  happened  so  fast,"  said  Mickey,  "and  I  didn't 
want  to  bother  you  when  your  head  was  so  full  of  your  old 
investigation  and  your  own  moving." 

"Did  you  hear  that  Leslie?"  he  asked.  "Mickey  dis- 
likes my  investigation  as  much  as  the  man  who  comes  out 
short  is  going  to,  any  day  now.  So  you've  moved  Peaches 
to  the  country?  You  should  have  told  me,  first." 

"I'm  sorry  if  you  don't  like  it,"  said  Mickey.  "You 
see  my  room  was  getting  awful  hot.  I  never  was  there 
days  this  time  of  year,  and  nights  I  slept  on  the  fire- 
escape;  all  right  for  me,  but  it  wouldn't  do  for  Lily.  Why 
should  I  have  told  you?" 

"Because  Miss  Winton  had  plans  for  her,"  explained 
Douglas.  "She  intended  to  take  her  to  Atwater,  and  she 
even  contemplated  having  her  back  examined  for  you." 

Mickey's  eyes  danced  and  over  his  face  spread  a  slow 
grin  of  comprehension. 

"Well?"  ejaculated  Douglas. 

"Nothing!"  said  Mickey. 

"Well?"  demanded  Douglas. 

Mickey  laughed  outright.  Then  he  sobered  suddenly 
and  spoke  gravely,  directly  to  Miss  Winton. 

"Thank  you  for  thinking  of  it,  and  planning  for  her," 
he  said.  "I  was  afraid  you  would." 

"Thank  me  for  something  you  feared  I  would  do! 
Mickey,  aren't  you  getting  things  mixed  ? " 

"Thank  you  for  thinking  of  Lily  and  wanting  to  help 


394  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

her,"  explained  Mickey,  "but  she  doesn't  need  you.  She's 
mine  and  I'm  going  to  keep  her;  so  what  I  can  do  for  her 
will  have  to  be  enough,  until  I  can  do  better." 

"  I  see,"  said  Leslie.  "  But  suppose  that  she  should  have 
attention  at  once,  that  you  can't  give  her,  and  I  can?" 

"Then  I'd  be  forced  to  let  you,  even  if  it  took  her  from 
me,"  agreed  Mickey.  "But  thank  the  Lord,  things  ain't 
that  way.  I  didn't  take  my  say-so  for  it;  I  went  to  the 
head  nurse  of  the  Star  of  Hope;  she's  gone  to  the  new 
Elizabeth  Home  now;  she  loves  to  nurse  children  best. 
All  the  time  from  the  first  day  she's  told  me  how,  and 
showed  me,  so  Lily  has  been  taken  care  of  right,  you 
needn't  worry  about  that.  And  where  she  is  now,  if 
she  was  a  queen-lady  she  couldn't  have  grander;  honest 
she  couldn't!" 

"But  Mickey,  how  are  you  going  to  pay  for  all  that?" 
queried  Douglas. 

"  Easy  as  fallingoff  a  car  in  a  narrow  skirt,"  said  Mickey. 
"'Member  that  big  house  where  things  are  Heaven-white, 
and  a  yard  full  of  trees,  and  the  fence  corners  are  cut  with 
the  shears,  and  the  street — I  mean  the  road — swept  with  a 
broom,  this  side  the  golf  grounds  about  two  miles?" 

"Yes,"  said  Douglas.  "The  woman  there  halted  my 
car  one  evening  and  spoke  to  me  about  you." 

"Oh  she  did?"  exclaimed  Mickey.  "Well  I  hope  you. 
gave  me  a  good  send-off,  'cause  she's  a  lady  I'm  most  par- 
ticular about.  You  see  I  stopped  there  for  a  drink,  the 
day  you  figured  instead  of  playing,  and  she  told  me  about 
a  boy  who  was  to  be  sent  out  by  the  Herald  and  hadn't 
come,  and  as  she  was  ready,  and  interested,  she  was  dis- 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  395 

appointed.  So  I  just  said  to  her  if  the  boy  didn't  come, 
how'd  she  like  to  have  a  nice,  good  little  girl  that  wouldn't 
ever  be  the  least  bother.  Next  day  she  came  to  see  us, 
and  away  Lily  went  sailing  to  the  country  in  a  big  auto- 
mobile, and  she  isn't  coming  back  'til  my  rooms  are  cool, 
if  she  can  be  spared  then." 

" But  how  are  you  going  to  pay,  Mickey?  Most  people 
only  take  children  for  a  week ?" 

"Yes  I  know,"  said  Mickey.  "But  these  folks  haven't 
ever  tried  it  before,  and  they  don't  know  the  ropes,  so 
we're  doing  it  our  own  way,  and  it  works  something 
grand." 

"If  they  are  suited "  said  Douglas.  "That  place 

is  far  better  than  where  we  feel  so  comfortable." 

"We  started  this  morning,"  said  Mickey.  "The  lady 
and  I  traded  jobs;  she  sat  on  a  hill  under  an  apple  tree 
and  watched  sunrise.  I  washed  the  dishes,  sep'rated  the 
cream,  and  scrubbed  the  porch  for  her.  When  Lily  wakes 
up,  the  lady  is  going  to  bathe,  rub,  feed  her,  and  see  to  her 
like  she  owned  her,  to  pay  me  back.  It's  a  bargain! 
You  couldn't  beat  it,  could  you?" 

"Of  course  if  you  want  to  turn  yourself  into  a  house- 
maid!" said  Douglas  irritably. 

Mickey  laughed,  and  Leslie  sent  a  slightly  frowning 
glance  toward  Douglas. 

"You  can  search  me!"  cried  the  boy,  throwing  out  his 
hands  in  his  familiar  gesture.  "Why  I  just  love  to!  I 
always  helped  mother!  Pay?  I'll  pay  all  right;  the  nice 
lady  will  say  I  do,  and  so  will  Peter.  It's  my  most  im- 
portant job  to  make  her  glad  of  me  as  I  am  of  her.  And 


396  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

if  you  put  it  up  to  me,  I'd  a  lot  rather  have  my  job  than 
yours;  and  I  bet  I  get  more  joy  from  it  for  my  family!" 

"Croaker!"  laughed  Bruce. 

"'Tain't  going  to  be  a  scream  for  the  fellow  who  come* 
short,"  warned  Mickey. 

"So  you're  planning  not  to  allow  me  to  do  anything  for 
Lily?"  inquired  Miss  Winton. 

"Well  there's  something  you  can  do  this  minute  if 
you'd  like,"  said  Mickey.  "I  was  going  to  hurry  up  and 
see  my  Sunshine  Nurse,  but  it's  a  long  way  to  the  new 
hospital,  and  you  could  do  as  well,  if  you  would." 

"Mickey,  I'd  love  to.  What  is  it?  And  may  I  see 
your  family?  You  know  I  haven't  had  a  peep  yet." 

"Well  soon  now,  you  may,"  said  Mickey.  "You  see 
I  ain't  quite  ready." 

"Mickey,  what  do  you  know  about  the  new  Elizabeth 
Home?"  asked  Douglas. 

"Only  that  a  rich  lady  gave  her  house  and  money,  and 
that  my  Sunshine  Nurse  is  going  to  be  there  after  this.  I 
was  going  for  my  first  trip  to-night." 

"I  wondered,"  said  Douglas.  "Mickey,  when  you  get 
there,  you'll  find  that  you've  been  there  before" 

"My  eye!"  cried  Mickey. 

"Fftt!  Mr.  Minturn  did  put  his  foot  down,  and  took 
his  boys "  began  Douglas. 

"Yes  he  was  telling  me  this  morning.  That's  what  I 
get  for  stopping  at  the  first  page.  If  I'd  a-looked  inside, 
bet  I'd  have  known  that  long  ago." 

"He  was  telling  you?"  queried  Douglas. 

"Yes.     I  guess  I  must  kind  of  shied  at  him  'til  he 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  397 

noticed  it;  I  didn't  know  I  did,  but  he  caught  me  and  told 
me  his  troubles  by  force.  We  shook  hands  to  quit  on. 
Say,  he's  just  fine  when  you  know  him,  and  there  doesn't 
seem  to  be  a  thing  on  earth  he  wouldn't  do  for  you,  Miss 
Leslie.  Why  he  said  if  ever  he  found  happiness  again,  and 
his  home  become  what  it  should,  it  would  be  because  you 
were  sorry  for  him,  and  fixed  things." 

"Mickey,  did  he  really?"  rejoiced  the  girl.  "Douglas, 
when  may  Mickey  show  me  what  he  wants  me  to  do?" 

"Right  now,"  he  answered.  "I  got  a  load  of  books 
while  he  was  away  yesterday  and  I  haven't  started  them 
yet.  Now  is  the  best  time." 

When  Mickey  made  a  leap  from  the  trolley  platform 
that  night,  at  what  he  already  had  named  Cold  Cream 
Junction,  he  was  almost  buried  under  boxes.  He  stepped 
high  and  prideful,  for  he  had  collected  the  money  from  his 
paper  route  and  immediately  spent  some  of  it  under  Leslie 
Winton's  supervision. 

Pillow  bolstered,  on  the  front  porch,  on  his  comfort  lay 
the  tiny  girl  he  loved.  Mickey  stopped  and  made  a  de- 
tailed inspection.  Peaches  leaned  forward  and  reached 
toward  him;  her  greeting  was  indescribably  sweet.  Mickey 
dropped  the  bundles  and  went  into  her  arms;  even  in  his 
joy  he  noted  a  new  strength  in  their  grip  on  him,  an  un- 
usual clinging.  He  drew  back  half  alarmed. 

"You  been  a  good  girl?"  he  queried  suspiciously. 

"Jus'  as  good!"  asserted  Peaches. 

"You  didn't  go  and  say  any ?" 

"Not  ever  Mickey-lovest !  Not  one!"  she  cried.  "I 
aint  even  thinked  one!  That  will  help,  Peter  says  sol" 


398  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"You  have  been  washed  and  fed  and  everything  all 
right?"  he  proceeded. 

"Jus*  as  right!"  she  insisted. 

"You  like  the  nice  lady?"  he  went  on. 

"Jus*  love  the  nice  lady,  an'  Mary,  an*  Bobbie,  an* 
Peter,  an'  Junior,  jus'  love  all  of  them!"  she  affirmed. 

"Well  I  hope  I  don't  bust!"  he  said.  "I  never  was  so 
glad  as  I  am  that  everything  is  good  for  you." 

"They's  two  things  that  ain't  good." 

"Well  if  things  ain't  right  here,  with  what  everybody's 
doing  for  you,  they  ought  to  be!"  cried  Mickey.  "You 
cut  complaining  right  out,  Miss  Chicken!" 

"You  forgot  to  set  my  lesson,  an'  I  ain't  had  my  po'try 
piece  for  two  days.  That  ain't  complainin'." 

"No  'tain't  honey,"  conceded  Mickey  regretfully.  "No 
'tain't!  That's  just  all  right.  I  thought  you  were  going 
to  start  kicking,  and  I  wasn't  going  to  stand  for  it.  Course 
I'll  set  your  lesson;  course  I'll  make  up  your  piece,  but  you 
must  give  me  a  little  time.  I  was  talking  with  Mr. 
Chaffner  of  the  Herald,  our  paper  you  know,  and  he's  be- 
ginning to  get  in  a  hurry  about  his  piece,  too." 

"I  want  mine  first!"  demanded  Peaches. 

"Sure!  You'll  get  it  first!  Always!  But  I'm  going  to 
do  something  for  you  before  I  make  it,  'cause  I  won't 
know  how  it  goes  'til  afterward.  See?" 

"What  you  going  to  do?"  she  questioned.  "What's 
all  the  bundles?  My  they  look  excitements!" 

"And  so  they  are!"  triumphed  Mickey.  "Where  are 
all  the  folks?  Do  they  leave  you  alone  like  this?" 

"No,  they  don't  leave  me  alone  only  when  I'm  asleep  in 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  399 

the  room,"  said  Peaches.  "They  saw  you  coming  an' 
went  away  'cause  they  know  families  likes  to  be  alone, 
sometimes.  Ain't  they  smart  to  know  that  r " 

"They  are!"  said  Mickey.  "First,  you  come  to  your 
bed  a  little  while.  I  got  something  for  you." 

"Ooh  Mickey!     Those  bundles  jus'  look !" 

"Now  you  hold  on.     You  wait  and  see,  Miss!" 

Mickey  carried  her  in  then  he  returned  for  the  boxes. 
He  opened  one  and  from  it  selected  a  pair  of  pink  stockings 
and  slipped  them  on  Peaches;  then  tiny,  soft  buckskin 
moccasins  embroidered  and  tied  with  ribbons  to  match  the 
hose.  Peaches  squealed  and  clapped  her  hand  over  her 
mouth  to  muffle  the  sound;  but  Mrs.  Harding  heard  and 
came  to  the  door.  Mickey  asked  for  help. 

"Young  ladies  who  are  going  automobiling  and  taking 
walks  are  well  enough  to  have  dresses,  and  things  that  all 
good  girls  have,"  he  announced.  "  But  I'm  a  little  dubious 
about  how  these  things  go.  Will  you  dress  her?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Harding.  "You  fill  the  water  bucket 
and  the  wood  box,  and  start  the  fire  for  supper." 

Mrs.  Harding  looked  over  the  contents  of  the  box  and 
from  plain  soft  pieces  of  underwear  chose  a  gauze  shirt,  a 
dainty  combination  suit  and  a  tucked  and  trimmed  pet- 
ticoat, while  Peaches  laughed  and  sobbed  for  pure  joy. 
Then  Mickey  came,  and  Mrs.  Harding  went  away.  After 
various  trials  he  decided  on  a  white  dress  with  pink  rib- 
bons run  in  the  neck,  sleeves,  and  belt,  slipping  it  on  her 
and  carefully  fastening  it. 

"Mickey,  I  want  the  glass!"  she  begged.  "Please,  oh 
please  hurry,  Mickey." 


400  ICHAEL  O'HALLGRAN 

"Now  you  just  wait,  Miss  Chicken!"  said  Mickey. 

Then  he  brushed  her  hair  and  put  on  a  new  pink  ribbon, 
not  so  large  as  those  she  had,  but  much  more  becoming. 
He  laid  a  soft  warm  little  gray  sweater  with  white  collar 
and  cuffs  in  reach,  and  in  turning  it  she  discovered  a  hand- 
kerchief and  a  pair  of  gloves  in  one  pocket.  Immediately 
she  searched  the  other  and  produced  a  purse  with  five  pen- 
nies in  it.  Then  for  no  reason  at  all,  Peaches  began  to  cry. 

"Well  Miss  Chicken!"  exclaimed  Mickey  in  surprise, 
"I  thought  you'd  be  pleased!" 

"Pleased!"  sobbed  Peaches.  "Pleased!  Mickey,  I'm 
dam — I'm  busted!" 

"Oh  well  then,  go  on  and  cry,  if  you  want  to,"  agreed 
Mickey.  "  But  you'd  look  much  nicer  to  show  Mrs.  Hard- 
ing and  Peter  if  you  wouldn't!" 

Peaches  immediately  wiped  her  eyes.  Mickey  lifted 
and  carried  her  back  to  the  porch,  placing  her  in  a  pillow- 
piled  big  chair.  Then  he  put  the  gloves  on  her  hands,  set 
a  hat  on  her  head  and  tied  the  pink  ribbons.  Peaches  both 
laughed  and  cried  at  that,  while  the  Harding  family  came 
in  because  they  could  not  wait.  Mickey  raised  and  put  in 
Peaches'  shaking  fingers  the  crowning  glory  of  any  small 
girl:  a  wonderful  little  pink  parasol.  Peaches  appeared  for 
a  minute  as  if  a  faint  were  imminent. 

"Now  do  you  see  why  I  couldn't  come  with  a  poetry  piece 
when  my  head  was  so  full  of  these  things?" 

"Yes  Mickey,  but  you  will  before  ni^ht?"  she  begged. 

"You  want  it  even  now?"  he  marvelled. 

"More  'an  the  passol,  even!"  she  declared. 

"Well  you  fool  little  sweet  kid!"  cried  Mickey  and 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  401 

choked.  He  fled  around  the  house  as  Peter  came  out.  In 
his  ears  as  he  went  sounded  Peter's  big  voice  and  the  de- 
lighted cries  of  the  family. 

"I  want  Mickey!"  wailed  Peaches. 

He  heard  her  call  and  ran  back  fast  for  fear  he  might  be 
so  slow  reaching  her  that  Peter  would  serve.  But  to  his 
joy  he  found  that  he  alone  would  answer. 

"I  want  to  see  me!"  demanded  Peaches. 

"Sure  you  do!"  cried  Peter.  "I'll  just  hand  down  the 
big  hall  mirror  so  you  can  see  all  of  you  at  once." 

He  brought  it  and  set  it  before  her.  Peaches  stared  and 
drew  back.  She  cried,  "Aw-w — ah!"  in  a  harsh,  half- 
scared  voice.  She  gripped  Mickey  with  one  hand  and  the 
parasol  with  the  other;  she  leaned  and  peeped,  and  mar- 
velled, and  smiled  at  a  fully  clothed  little  girl  in  the  glass, 
while  the  image  smiled  back.  Peaches  thought  of  letting 
go  of  Mickey  to  touch  her  hat  and  straighten  her  skirt,  but 
felt  so  lost  without  him,  that  she  handed  Peter  the  parasol, 
and  used  that  hand,  while  the  other  clung  to  her  refuge. 
When  Mickey  saw  the  treasure  go  in  his  favour,  he  swal- 
lowed lumps  of  emotion  so  big  that  the  Hardings  could  see 
them  running  down  his  throat.  Peaches  intent  on  the 
glass  smiled,  grimaced,  tilted  her  head,  and  finally  began 
flirting  outrageously  with  herself,  until  all  of  them  laughed 
and  recalled  her.  She  looked  at  Peter,  smiled  her  most 
winsome  smile  and  exclaimed:  "Well  ain't  I  the " 

"Now  you  go  easy,  Miss  Chicken,"  warned  Mickey. 

"Mickey,  if  you  hadn't  stopped  me  I'd  done  it  sure!" 
sobbed  Peaches,  collapsing  against  him.  !0F  I  had,  would 
you  a-took  these  bu'ful  things  'way  from  me?" 


402  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

" No  I  wouldn't ! "  said  Mickey.  "  I  couldn't  to  save  me. 
But  I  should!" 

"Mickey,  I'm  so  tired,"  she  said.  "Take  my  hat  an* 
put  it  where  I  can  see  it,  an'  my  passol,  an'  my  coat;  gee, 
I  don't  have  to  be  wrapped  in  sheets  no  more,  an'  lay  me 
down.  Quick  Mickey,  I'm  sick-like." 

"Well  I  ought  to  had  the  sense  not  to  spring  so  much  all 
at  once,"  said  Mickey,  "but  it  all  seemed  to  belong.  Sure 
I  will,  you  poor  kid!" 

"And  Mickey,  you  won't  forget  the  lesson  and  the 
po'try  piece?"  she  panted. 

"No,  I  won't  forget,"  promised  Mickey,  as  he  stretched 
her  among  her  treasures  and  watched  her  fall  asleep  even 
while  he  slipped  the  gloves  from  her  fingers. 

Next  morning  she  found  the  lesson  and  the  poetry  on 
her  slate.  Mrs.  Harding  bathed  and  clothed  her  in  the 
little  garments,  and  showed  her  enough  more  for  the 
changes  she  would  need,  even  two  finer  dresses  for  Sunday. 
She  left  the  coat,  hat,  and  parasol  in  reach.  Then  Peaches 
resolutely  took  up  her  pencil  and  set  herself  to  copy  the 
lines  without  knowing  enough  of  the  words  to  really 
understand;  but  she  was  extremely  well  acquainted  with 
one  word  that  Mickey  had  said  "just  flew  out  of  his  mouth 
when  he  looked  at  her,"  and  in  her  supreme  satisfac- 
tion over  her  new  possessions  she  was  sure  the  lines  must 
be  concerning  them.  Most  of  all  she  was  delighted 
with  her  slippers.  A  hundred  times  that  morning  she 
looked  down,  wiggled  her  toes  and  moved  her  feet  to 
see  them  better.  Between  whiles  she  copied  over  and 
over: 


THE  FINGERS  IN  THE  PIE  403 

LILY 

Miss  L.  P.  O'Halloran  daily  went  walking, 

In  slippers  so  nifty  the  neighbours  were  talking. 

The  minute  she  raised  her  gay  pink  parasol 

The  old  red  cow  began  to  friskily  bawl. 

When  they  observed  the  neat  coat  on  her  back, 

All  the  guineas  in  the  orchard  cried:  "Rack!  Pot  rack!" 

She  was  so  lovely  a  bird  flying  her  way, 

Sang  "Sweet,  sweet,  sweet!"  all  the  rest  of  the  day. 

Peter  came  in  to  visit  a  few  minutes,  so  she  gave  him  the 
slate  to  see  if  he  could  read  her  copy,  and  by  this  ruse  she 
found  what  the  lines  were.  She  was  so  overjoyed  she 
opened  her  lips  and  then  clapped  both  hands  over  them,  to 
smother  the  ejaculation  at  her  tongue's  end.  To  distract 
Peter  she  stuck  out  her  foot  and  moved  it  for  him  to  see. 

"Ain't  that  pretty,  an'  jus'  as  soft  and  fine?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,"  said  Peter.  "They  remind  me  of  a  flower  called 
'Lady  Slipper,'  that  grows  along  the  edge  of  the  woods. 
It's  that  shape  and  the  prettiest  gold  yellow,  but  little, 
they'd  about  fit  your  doll." 

"Oh  Peter,  could  you  get  me  one?     I  want  to  see." 

"Why  I  would,  but  they  are  all  gone  now,  honey," 
answered  Peter.  "Next  year  I'll  remember  and  bring 
you  some  when  they  bloom.  But  it's  likely  by  that  time 
you  can  go  yourself,  and  see  them." 

"Do  you  honest  think  it  Peter?"  asked  Peaches,  lean- 
ing forward  eagerly. 

"Yes  I  honest  think  it,"  repeated  Peter  emphatically. 

"But  I  won't  be  here  then,"  Peaches  reminded  him. 

"Well  it  won't  be  my  fault,  if  you're  not,"  said  Peter. 


• 


CHAPTER  XVII 

INITIATIONS  IN  AN  ANCIENT  AND  HONOURABLE 
BROTHERHOOD 


"  "1^     "TOW  father,  you  said  if  I'd  help  till  after  har- 

^W.  • 

^k       vest,  I  could  go  to  Multiopolis  and  hunt  a  job," 

J^     ^j     Junior  reminded  Peter.     "When  may  I?" 

"I  remember,"  said  Peter.  "You  may  start  Monday 
morning  if  you  want  to.  Ma  and  I  have  talked  it  over, 
and  if  you're  bound  to  leave  us,  I  guess  there'd  never  be  a 
better  time.  I  can  get  Jud  Jason  to  drive  the  cream  wagon 
for  me,  and  I'll  do  the  best  I  can  at  the  barn.  I  had  hoped 
that  we'd  be  partners  and  work  together  all  our  days;  but 
if  you  have  decided  upon  leaving  us,  of  course  you  won't 
be  satisfied  till  you've  done  it." 

"Well  I  can  try,"  said  Junior,  "and  if  I  don't  like  it  I 
can  come  back." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  objected  Peter.  "Of 
course  I'd  have  other  help  hired;  your  room  would  be 
occupied  and  your  work  contracted  for " 

"Well  I  hadn't  figured  on  that,"  he  said.  "I  supposed 
I  could  go  and  try  it,  and  if  I  didn't  like  it  I  could  come 
home.  Couldn't  I  come  home  Ma?" 

Nancy  slowly  became  a  greenish  white  colour;  but  the 
situation  had  been  discussed  so  often,  it  worried  her 
dreadfully;  now  that  it  had  to  be  met,  evasion  would 

404 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      405 

do  no  good.  Peter  grimly  watched  her.  He  knew  she 
was  struggling  with  a  woman's  inborn  impulse  to  be  the 
haven  of  her  children,  her  son,  her  first-born,  especially. 
He  was  surprised  to  hear  her  saying:  "Why  I  hardly  think 
so  Junior,  it  wouldn't  be  a  right  start  in  life.  You  must 
figure  that  whatever  kind  of  work  you  find,  or  whoever  you 
work  for,  there  will  be  things  you  won't  like  or  think  fair, 
but  if  you  are  going  to  be  your  own  man,  you  must  begin 
like  a  man;  and  of  course  a  man  doesn't  go  into  business 
with  his  mind  made  up  to  run  for  his  mother's  petticoats, 
the  first  thing  that  displeases  him.  No,  I  guess  if  you  go, 
you  must  start  with  your  mind  made  up  to  stay  till  the 
October  term  of  school  opens,  anyway." 

"Then  we'll  call  that  settled,"  said  Peter.  "You  may 
go  with  Mickey  on  the  Monday  morning  car  and  we  prob- 
ably won't  see  you  again  till  you  are  one  of  the  leading 
business  men  of  Multiopolis,  and  drive  out  in  your  auto- 
mobile. Have  you  decided  which  make  you'll  get?" 

"Well  from  what  I've  learned  driving  yours,  if  I  were 
buying  one  myself,  Fd  get  a  Glide-by,"  said  Junior. 
"They  strike  me  as  the  best  car  on  the  market." 

Peter  glanced  sharply  at  his  son.  When  he  saw  that 
the  answer  was  perfectly  sincere,  his  heart  almost  played 
him  the  trick  he  had  expected  from  his  wife. 

"All  right  Ma,  gather  up  his  clothes  and  get  them 
washed,  and  have  him  ready,"  said  Peter. 

"I  thought  maybe  you'd  take  me  in  the  car  and  sort  of 
look  around  with  me,"  said  Junior. 

"I  don't  see  how  I  am  going  to  do  it,  with  both  our 
work  piled  on  me,"  said  Peter.  "And  besides,  I'm  a 


406  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

farmer  born  and  bred;  I  wouldn't  have  the  first  idea  about 
how  to  get  a  boy  a  job  in  the  city  or  what  he  ought  to  do 
or  have.  Mickey  is  on  to  all  that;  he'll  go  with  you,  won't 
you  Mickey?" 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "And  you  can  save  a  lot  by 
using  my  room.  It  is  high,  but  it's  clean "- —Junior 
scowled  but  Mickey  proceeded  calmly — "and  while  it 
gets  hot  in  the  daytime,  if  you  open  the  door  at  night,  and 
push  the  bed  before  the  window,  it  soon  cools  off,  while 
very  hottest  times  I  always  take  to  the  fire-escape.  It's 
nice  and  cool  there." 

"Of  course!  That  will  be  the  ticket,"  said  Peter  heart- 
ily. "A  boy  starting  with  everything  to  learn  couldn't 
expect  to  earn  much,  and  when  you  haven't  Ma  and  me  to 
depend  on  for  your  board  you'll  be  glad  to  have  the  bed 
free.  Thank  you  Mickey,  that's  fine!" 

Junior  did  not  look  as  if  he  thought  it  were.  Pres- 
ently he  asked:  "How  much  money  ought  I  to  take  to  start 
on,  Mickey?" 

"Hully  gee!"  said  Mickey.  "Why  your  fare  in!  You're 
going  to  make  money,  kid,  not  to  spend  it.  If  I  was 
turned  loose  there  with  just  one  cent  I'd  be  flying  by 
night,  and  if  I  hadn't  the  cent,  I'd  soon  earn  it." 

"How  could  you  Mickey?"  asked  Junior  eagerly. 

"With  or  without?"  queried  Mickey. 

"Both!"  exclaimed  Junior. 

"Well,  'without,'"  said  Mickey,  "I'd  keep  my  lamps 
trimmed  and  burning,  and  I'd  catch  a  lady  falling  off  a 
car,  or  pick  up  a  purse,  or  a  kid,  or  run  an  errand.  'With/ 
there'd  be  only  one  thing  I'd  think  of,  because  papers  are 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      407 

my  game.  I'd  buy  one  for  a  penny  and  sell  it  for  two; 
buy  two,  sell  for  four;  you  know  the  multiplication  table, 
don't  you?  But  of  course  you  don't  want  a  street  job, 
you  want  in  a  factory  or  a  store.  If  you  could  do  what 
you  like  best,  what  would  it  be  Junior?" 

Junior  opened  his  mouth  several  times  and  at  last  ad- 
mitted he  hadn't  thought  that  far:  "Why  I  don't  know." 

"Well,"  said  Mickey  calmly,  "there's  making  things, 
that's  factories.  There's  selling  them,  that's  stores. 
There's  doctors,  and  lawyers,  that's  professional,  like 
my  boss.  And  there's  office-holders,  like  the  men  he  is 
after,  but  of  course  you'd  have  to  be  old  enough  to  vote 
and  educated  enough  to  do  business,  and  have  enough 
money  earned  at  something  else  to  buy  your  office; 
that's  too  far  away.  Now  if  you  don't  like  the  street, 
there's  the  other  three.  The  quickest  money  would  be 
in  the  first  two.  If  you  were  making  things,  what  would 
you  make?" 

"Automobiles!"  said  Junior. 

"All  right!"  said  Mickey,  "we  can  try  them  first.  If 
we  can't  find  a  factory  that  you'd  like,  what  would  you 
rather  sell  ? " 

"Automobiles,"  said  Junior  promptly. 

"Gee!"  said  Mickey.  "I  see  where  we  hit  that  busi- 
ness at  both  ends.  If  we  miss,  what  next  ? " 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Junior.  "I'll  make  up  my  mind 
when  I  have  looked  around  some." 

"You  can  come  closer  deciding  out  here,  than  you  can 
in  the  rush  of  the  streets,"  said  Mickey.  "There,  you'll 
be  rustling  for  your  supper,  and  you'll  find  boys  hunting 


4o8  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

jobs  thick  as  men  at  a  ball  game,  and  lots  of  them  with 
dads  to  furnish  their  room  and  board." 

Junior  hesitated,  but  Mickey  excused  himself  and  with- 
out having  been  told  what  to  do,  he  accomplished  half  a 
day's  work  for  Mrs*  Harding,  then  began  some  of  Peter's 
jobs  and  afterward  turned  his  attention  to  hearing  Peaches' 
lesson  and  setting  her  new  copy.  When  Junior  paid  his 
fare  Monday  morning,  Mickey,  judging  by  the  change  he 
exhibited,  realized  that  both  his  mother  and  father  had 
given  him,  to  start  on,  a  dollar  to  spend.  Mickey  would 
have  preferred  that  he  be  penniless.  He  decided  as  they 
ran  cityward  that  the  first  thing  was  to  part  Junior  from 
his  money,  so  he  told  him  he  would  be  compelled  to  work 
in  the  forenoon,  and  for  a  while  in  the  afternoon,  and  left 
him  to  his  own  devices  on  the  street,  with  a  meeting-place 
agreed  on  at  noon. 

When  Mickey  reached  the  spot  he  found  Junior  with  a 
pocket  full  of  candy,  eating  early  peaches,  and  instead  of 
hunting  work,  he  had  attended  three  picture  shows. 
Mickey  could  have  figured  to  within  ten  cents  of  what  was 
left  of  one  of  Junior's  dollars;  but  as  the  cure  did  not  really 
begin  until  the  money  disappeared,  the  quicker  it  went  the 
better.  As  he  ate  his  sandwich  and  drank  his  milk,  he 
watched  Junior  making  a  dinner  of  meat,  potatoes,  pie 
and  ice-cream,  and  made  a  mental  estimate  of  the  re- 
mains of  the  other  dollar.  As  a  basis  for  a  later  "I  told 
you  so,"  he  remonstrated,  and  pointed  out  the  fact  that 
there  were  hundreds  of  unemployed  men  of  strength, 
skilled  artisans  with  families  to  support,  looking  for  work 
that  minute. 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      409 

"I  know  your  dad  signed  up  that  contract  with  Jud 
Jason,"  he  said,  '"cause  I  saw  him,  and  that  means  that 
he's  got  no  use  for  you  for  three  months;  so  you  must  take 
care  of  yourself  for  that  long  at  least,  if  you  got  any  ginger 
in  you.  Of  course,"  explained  Mickey,  "  I  know  that  most 
city  men  think  country  boy?  won't  stick,  and  are  big 
cowards,  but  I'm  expecting  you  to  show  them  just  where 
they  are  mistaken.  I  know  you're  not  lazy,  and  I  know 
you  got  as  much  sand  and  grit  as  any  city  boy,  but  you 
must  prove  it  to  the  rest  of  them.  You  must  show  up ! " 

"  Sure ! "  said  Junior.     "  I'll  convince  them ! " 

By  night  the  last  penny  of  the  second  dollar  was  gone, 
so  Junior  borrowed  his  fare  to  his  room  from  Mickey,  who 
was  to  remain  with  him  to  show  him  the  way  back  and 
forth,  and  to  spend  an  early  hour  in  search  of  employment. 
It  was  Mickey's  first  night  away  from  Peaches,  and  while 
he  knew  she  was  safe,  he  felt  that  when  night  came  she 
would  miss  him.  The  thought  that  she  might  cry  for 
him  tormented  him  to  speech.  He  pointed  out  to  Junior 
very  clearly  that  he  would  have  to  mark  corners  and  keep 
his  eyes  open  because  he  need  not  expect  that  he  could 
leave  her  longer  than  that.  Junior  agreed  with  him,  for 
he  had  promised  Peaches  in  saying  good-bye  to  keep 
Mickey  only  one  night. 

He  had  treated  himself  to  candy  and  unusual  fruits 
until  his  money  was  gone,  while  by  night  these  and  a 
walk  of  miles  on  hot  pavement  had  bred  such  an  appetite 
that  he  felt  he  had  not  eaten  a  full  meal  in  years,  so 
•  when  Mickey  brought  out  the  remains  of  the  food  Mrs. 
Harding  had  given  him,  her  son  felt  insulted.  But 


4io  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Mickey  figured  a  day  on  the  basis  of  what  he  had  earned, 
what  he  had  expended,  what  he  must  save  to  be  ready 
when  the  great  surgeon  came,  and  prepared  exactly  as  he 
would  have  done  for  himself  and  Peaches.  On  reaching 
the  tenement  and  climbing  until  his  legs  ached,  Junior 
faced  stifling  heat,  but  Mickey  opened  the  window  and 
started  a  draft  by  setting  the  door  wide.  While  they  ate 
supper,  Mickey  talked  unceasingly,  but  Junior  was  sulk- 
ily silent.  He  tried  the  fire-escape,  but  one  glance  from 
the  rickety  aiTair,  hung  a  mile  above  the  ground  it  seemed 
to  him,  was  enough,  so  he  climbed  back  in  the  window  and 
tossed  on  the  bed. 

Junior  did  his  first  real  thinking  that  night.  He  was 
ravenous  before  morning  and  aghast  at  what  he  was 
offered  for  breakfast.  He  was  eager  to  find  work  and  he 
knew  for  what  his  first  day's  wage  would  go.  In  justice 
to  his  own  sense  of  honour  and  in  justice  to  Junior,  mere 
common  fairness,  such  as  he  would  have  wanted  in  like 
case,  for  the  first  few  days  Mickey  honestly  and  unceas- 
ingly hunted  employment.  With  Junior  at  his  elbow  he 
suffered  one  rebuff  after  another,  until  it  was  clear  to  him 
that  it  was  impossible  for  a  country  boy  unused  to  the 
ways  of  the  city  to  find  or  to  hold  a  job  at  which  he  could 
survive,  even  with  his  room  provided,  while  the  city 
swarmed  with  unemployed  men.  Everywhere  they  found 
the  work  they  would  have  liked  done  by  an  Italian, 
Greek,  Swede,  German,  or  Polander  who  seemed  strong  as 
oxen,  oblivious,  as  no  doubt  they  were,  to  treatment  Junior 
never  had  seen  accorded  a  balky  mule,  and  able  to  live  on  a 
chunk  of  black  bread,  a  bit  of  cheese,  and  a  few  cents' 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      411 

worth  of  stale  beer.  When  Mickey  had  truly  convinced 
himself  of  what  he  had  believed,  with  a  free  conscience  he 
then  began  allowing  Junior  to  find  out  for  himself  exactly 
what  he  was  facing.  By  that  time  Junior  had  lost  himself 
on  the  way  to  Mickey's  rooms,  spent  a  night  wandering 
the  streets,  and  breakfastless  was  waiting  before  the  Iri- 
quois. 

Mickey  listened  sympathetically,  supplied  a  dime, 
which  seemed  to  be  all  he  had,  for  breakfast,  and  said  as 
he  entered  the  building:  "Well  kid,  'til  we  can  find  a  job 
you'll  just  have  to  go  up  against  the  street.  If  I  can  live 
and  save  money  at  it,  you  ought  to  be  smart  enough  to 
live.  Go  to  it  'til  I  get  my  day's  work  done.  You  just 
can't  go  home,  because  they'll  think  you  don't  amount 
to  anything;  the  fellows  will  make  game  of  you,  and  besides 
Jud  is  doing  wonderfully  well,  your  father  said  so.  He 
seemed  so  tickled  over  him,  I  guess  the  fact  is  he  is  getting 
more  help  from  him  that  he  ever  did  from  Junior  boy,  so 
your  job  there  isn't  open.  Go  at  whatever  you  can  see 
that  needs  to  be  done,  'til  I  get  my  work  over  and  we'll  try 
again.  I'll  be  out  about  three,  and  you  can  meet  me  here." 

Empty  and  disheartened  Junior  squeezed  the  dime  and 
hurried  toward  the  nearest  restaurant.  But  the  trans- 
action had  been  witnessed  by  a  boy  as  hungry  as  he,  and 
hardened  to  the  street.  How  Junior  came  to  be  sprawling 
on  the  sidewalk  he  never  knew;  only  that  his  hand  invol- 
untarily opened  in  falling  and  he  threw  it  out  to  catch  him- 
self, so  he  couldn't  find  the  dime.  Before  noon  he  was 
sick  and  reeling  with  sleeplessness  and  hunger.  He  was 
waiting  when  it  was  Mickey's  time  to  lunch,  but  he  did  not 


4i2  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

come,  and  in  desperation  Junior  really  tried  the  street.  At 
last  he  achieved  a  nickel  by  snatching  a  dropped  bundle 
from  under  a  car.  He  sat  a  long  time  in  a  stairway  looking 
at  it,  and  then  having  reached  a  stage  where  he  was  more 
sick,  and  less  hungry,  he  hunted  a  telephone  booth  and 
tried  to  get  his  home,  only  to  learn  that  the  family  was 
away.  Gladdened  by  the  thought  that  they  might  be  in 
the  city,  he  walked  miles,  watching  the  curb  before  stores 
where  they  shopped,  searching  for  their  car,  and  he  told 
himself  that  if  he  found  it,  nothing  could  separate  him 
from  the  steering  gear  until  he  sped  past  all  regulation 
straight  to  his  mother's  cupboard. 

He  had  wanted  ham  and  chicken  in  the  beginning;  later 
helping  himself  to  cold  food  in  the  cellar  seemed  7.  luxury; 
then  crackers  and  cookies  in  the  dining-room  cupboard 
would  have  satisfied  his  wildest  desire;  and  before  three 
o'clock,  Junior,  in  mad  rebellion,  remembered  his  mother's 
slop  bucket.  How  did  she  dare  put  big  pieces  of  bread  and 
things  good  enough  for  any  one  to  eat  in  feed  for  pigs  and 
poultry!  If  he  ever  reached  home  he  resolved  he  would 
put  a  stop  to  that. 

At  three  to  Mickey's  cheerful,  "Now  we'll  find  a  job  or 
make  it,"  he  answered:  "No  we  will  find  a  square  meal  or 
steal  it,"  and  then  he  told.  Mickey  watched  him  re- 
flectively, but  as  he  figured  the  case,  it  was  not  for  him  to 
suggest  retreat.  He  condoled,  paid  for  the  meal,  and 
started  hunting  work  again,  with  Junior  silent  and  dogged 
beside  him.  To  the  surprise  of  both,  almost  at  once  they 
found  a  place  for  a  week  with  a  florist. 

Junior  went  to  work.     After  a  few  tasks  bunglingly  per- 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      413 

formed,  he  was  tried  on  messenger  service  and  started  with 
his  carfare  to  deliver  a  box  containing  a  funeral  piece.  He 
had  no  idea  where  he  was  to  go,  or  what  car  line  to  take. 
In  his  extremity  a  bootblack  came  to  his  aid.  He  safely 
delivered  the  box  at  a  residence  where  the  owner  was  leav- 
ing his  door  for  his  car.  He  gave  Junior  half  a  dollar. 
Junior  met  the  first  friendly  greeting  he  har7  encountered 
in  Multiopolis,  as  he  reached  the  street. 

Two  boys  larger  than  he  walked  beside  him  and  talked  so 
frankly,  that  before  he  reached  his  car  line,  he  felt  he  had 
made  friends.  They  offered  to  show  him  a  shorter  cut  to 
the  car  line  just  by  going  up  an  alley  and  out  on  a  side 
street.  At  the  proper  place  for  seclusion,  the  one  behind 
knocked  him  senseless,  and  the  one  before  wheeled  and  re- 
lieved him  of  money,  and  both  fled.  Junior  lay  for  a  time, 
then  slowly  came  back,  but  he  was  weak  and  ill.  He  knew 
without  investigating  what  had  happened,  and  preferring 
the  mercy  that  might  be  inside  to  that  of  the  alley,  he 
crawled  into  a  back  door.  It  proved  to  be  a  morgue.  A 
workman  came  to  his  assistance,  felt  the  lump  on  his  head, 
noticed  the  sickness  on  his  face,  and  gave  him  a  place  to 
rest.  Junior  was  dubious  from  the  start  about  feeling 
better,  as  he  watched  the  surroundings.  The  proprietor 
came  past  and  inquired  who  he  was  and  why  he  was  there. 
Junior  told  him,  and  showed  the  lumps  behind  his  ear  and 
on  his  forehead,  to  prove  his  words. 

The  man  was  human.  He  gave  Junior  another  nickel 
and  told  him  which  car  to  take  from  his  front  door.  He 
had  to  stand  aside  and  see  five  pieces  of  charred  humanity 
from  a  cleaning-establishment  explosion,  carried  through 


414  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

the  door  before  he  had  a  chance  to  leave  it.  He  reached 
the  florist's  two  hours  late  and  in  spite  of  his  story  and  his 
perfectly  discernible  bumps  to  prove  it,  he  was  discharged 
as  a  fool  for  following  strangers  into  an  alley. 

On  the  streets  once  more  and  penniless,  he  started  to 
walk  the  miles  to  his  room.  When  he  found  the  building 
he  thought  it  would  be  cooler  to  climb  the  fire-escape  and 
sit  on  it  until  he  decided  what  to  do,  then  he  could  open  the 
door  from  the  inside.  At  the  top  he  thrust  a  foot,  head, 
and  shoulders  into  the  room  and  realized  he  had  selected 
the  wrong  escape.  He  tried  to  draw  back,  but  two  men 
leaped  for  him,  and  as  he  was  doubled  in  the  window  he 
could  not  make  a  swift  movement. 

He  was  landed  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  cursed  for  a 
prowling  thief,  his  protestations  silenced,  his  pockets 
searched,  and  when  they  yielded  nothing,  his  body  stripped 
of  its  clean,  wholesome  clothing  and  he  was  pitched 
down  the  stairs.  He  appealed  to  several  people,  and 
found  that  the  less  he  said  the  safer  he  was.  He  snatched 
a  towel  from  a  basket  of  clothes  before  a  door,  twisted  it 
around  him,  and  ran  down  the  street  to  Mickey's  front  en- 
trance. With  all  his  remaining  breath  he  sped  up  flight 
after  flight  of  stairs  and  at  last  reached  the  locked  door, 
only  to  find  that  the  key  was  in  the  pocket  of  his  stolen 
trousers,  and  he  could  not  force  his  way  with  his  bare 
hands.  He  could  only  get  to  his  clothing  by  trying  the 
fire-escapes  again.  He  was  almost  too  sick  to  see  or  cling 
to  the  narrow  iron  steps,  but  that  time  he  counted  care- 
fully, and  looked  until  he  was  sure  before  he  entered.  He 
found  his  clothes,  and  in  the  intense  heat  dressed  himself. 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      415 

but  he  could  not  open  the  door.     He  sat  on  the  fire-escape 
to  think. 

Presently  he  espied  one  of  the  men  who  had  robbed  him 
watching  him  from  another  escape,  and  being  afraid  and 
beaten  sore,  he  crept  into  the  heat,  and  lay  on  the  bed  be- 
side the  window.  After  a  while  a  breath  of  air  came  in, 
and  Junior  slept  the  sleep  of  exhaustion.  When  he  awoke 
it  was  morning,  his  head  aching,  his  mouth  dry,  and  the 
room  cooler.  Glancing  toward  the  door  he  saw  it  standing 
open  and  then  noticed  the  disorder  of  the  room,  and  of 
himself,  and  sat  up  to  find  he  was  on  the  floor,  once  more 
disrobed,  and  the  place  stripped  of  every  portable  thing  in 
it,  even  the  bed,  little  stove,  and  the  trunk  filled  with 
clothes  and  a  few  personal  possessions  sacred  to  Mickey 
because  they  had  been  his  mother's.  The  men  had  used 
the  key  in  Junior's  pocket  to  enter  while  he  slept,  drugged 
him,  and  carried  away  everything.  He  crept  to  the  door 
and  closed  it,  then  sank  on  the  floor  and  cried  until  he 
again  became  unconscious.  It  was  four  o'clock  that  after- 
noon when  Mickey  looked  in  and  understood  the  situation. 
He  bent  over  Junior's  bruised  and  battered  body,  stared  at 
his  swollen,  tear-stained  face,  and  darting  from  the  room, 
brought  water,  and  then  food  and  clothing. 

Redressed  and  fed,  Junior  lay  on  the  floor  and  said  to 
Mickey:  "Go  to  the  nearest 'phone  and  call  father.  Tell 
him  I'm  sick,  to  come  in  a  hurry  with  the  car." 

'Sure!"  said  Mickey.     "But  hadn't  we  better  wait  'til 
morning  now,  and  get  you  rested  and  fed  up  a  little?" 

"No,"  said  Junior.  "The  sooner  he  sees  the  fix  I'm  in 
the  better  he  will  realize  that  I'm  not  a  quitter;  but  that 


4i6  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

this  ain't  just  the  place  for  me.  Mickey,  did  you  ever  go 
through  this?  Why  do  I  get  it  so  awful  hard?" 

"It's  because  the  regulars  can  tell  a  mile  off  you  are 
country,  Junior,"  said  Mickey.  "All  my  life  I've  been  on 
the  streets  so  they  knew  me  for  city  born,  and  supposed 
I'd  friends  to  trace  them  and  back  me  if  they  abused  me; 
and  then,  I  always  look  ahead  sharp,  and  don't  trust  a 
living  soul  about  alleys.  You  say  the  next  escape  but 
one?  I've  got  to  find  them,  and  get  back  my  things.  I 
want  mother's,  and  Lily  and  I  can't  live  this  winter  with 
no  bed,  and  no  stove,  and  nothing  at  all." 

"I'm  sorry  about  your  mother's  things  Mickey,  but 
don't  worry  over  the  rest,"  said  Junior.  "Pa  and  Ma 
won't  ever  be  willing  to  give  up  Peaches  again,  I  can  see 
that  right  now,  and  if  they  keep  her,  they  will  have  to  take 
you  too,  because  of  course  you  can't  be  separated  from 
her;  your  goods,  I'll  pay  back.  I  owe  you  a  lot  as  it  is,  but 
I  got  some  money  in  the  bank,  and  I'll  have  to  sell  my 
sheep." 

Junior  laid  his  head  on  his  arm  and  sobbed  weakly. 

"Don't  Junior,"  said  Mickey.  "I  feel  just  awful  about 
this.  I  thought  you  had  a  place  that  would  earn  your 
supper,  and  you  had  the  room,  and  would  be  all  right." 

"Why  of  course!"  said  Junior. 

Mickey  looked  intently  at  him.  "Now  look  here 
Junior,"  he  said,  "I  got  to  square  myself  on  this.  I  didn't 
think  all  the  time  you'd  like  Multiopolis,  when  you  saw  it 
with  the  bark  off.  Course  viewing  it  on  a  full  stomach, 
from  an  automobile,  with  spending  money  in  your  pocket, 
and  a  smooth  run  to  a  good  home  before  you,  is  one  thing; 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      417 

facing  up  to  it,  and  asking  it  to  hand  out  those  things  to 
you  in  return  for  work  you  can  do  here,  without  knowing 
the  ropes,  is  another.  You've  stuck  it  out  longer  than  I 
would,  honest  you  have,  but  it  isn't  your  game,  and  you 
don't  know  how,  and  you'd  be  a  fool  to  learn.  I  thought 
you'd  get  enough  to  satisfy  you  when  you  came,  but  see- 
ing for  yourself  seemed  to  be  the  only  way  to  cure 
you." 

"Oh  don't  start  the  'I  told  you  so,'"  said  Junior. 
"  Father  and  mother  will  hand  it  out  for  the  rest  of  my  life. 
I'd  as  lief  die  as  go  back,  but  I'm  going;  not  because  I  can't 
get  in  the  game,  and  make  a  living  if  you  can,  even  if  I  have 
to  go  out  and  start  as  you  did,  with  a  penny.  I'm  going 
back,  but  not  for  the  reason  you  think.  It's  because  seen 
at  close  range,  Multiopolis  ain't  what  it  looks  like  from  an 
automobile.  I  know  something  that  I  really  know,  and 
that  comes  natural  to  me,  that  beats  it  a  mile;  and  now  I've 
had  my  chance,  and  made  my  choice.  I'm  so  sore  I  can't 
walk,  but  if  you'll  just  call  father  and  tell  him  to  come  in 
on  high,  I'll  settle  with  you  later." 

"Course  if  that's  the  way  you  feel,  I'll  call  him,"  said 
Mickey,  "but  Junior,  let  me  finish  this  much  I  was  trying 
to  say.  I  knew  Multiopolis  would  do  to  you  all  it  had  done 
to  me,  and  I  knew  you  wouldn't  like  it;  but  I  didn't  figure 
on  your  big  frame  and  fresh  face  spelling  country  'til  it 
would  show  a  mile  down  the  street.  I  didn't  figure  on  you 
getting  the  show  I  would,  and  I  didn't  intend  anything 
worse  should  happen  to  you  than  has  to  me.  Honest  I 
didn't!  I'm  just  about  sick  over  this  Junior.  Don't  you 
want  to  go  to  Mr.  Bruce's  office — I  got  a  key  and  he  won't 


4i  8  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

care — don't  you  want  to  go  there  and  rest  a  little,  and 
feed  up  better,  before  I  call  your  father?" 

"No  I  don't!  I  got  enough  and  I  know  it !  They  must 
know  it  some  time;  it  might  as  well  come  at  once." 

"Then  let's  go  out  on  the  car,"  said  Mickey. 

"I  guess  you  don't  realize  just  how  bad  this  is,"  said 
Junior.  "You  call  father,  and  call  him  quick  and  em- 
phatic enough  to  bring  him." 

"All  right  then,"  said  Mickey.     "Here  goes!" 

"And  put  the  call  in  nearest  place  you  can  find  and 
hustle  back,"  said  Junior.  "I'm  done  with  alleys,  and 
sluggers,  and  robbers.  Goliath  couldn't  have  held  his 
own  against  two  big  men,  when  he  was  fifteen,  and  I  guess 
father  won't  think  I'm  a  coward  because  they  got  away 
with  me.  But  you  hurry!" 

"Sure!     I'll  fly,  and  I'll  get  him  if  I  can." 

"There's  no  doubt  about  getting  him.  This  is  baked 
potato,  bacon,  blackberry  roll,  honey  and  bread  time  at 
our  house.  They  wouldn't  be  away  just  now,  and  it's 
strange  they  have  been  so  much  this  week." 

Mickey  gave  Junior  a  swift  glance;  then  raced  to  the 
nearest  telephone. 

"You  Mickey?"  queried  Peter. 

"Yes.  It's  you  for  S.  O.  S.,  and  I'm  to  tell  you  to 
come  on  high,  and  lose  no  time  in  starting." 

"Am  I  to  come  Mickey,  or  am  I  too  busy?" 

"You  are  to  come,  Peter,  to  my  room,  and  in  a  hurry. 
Things  didn't  work  according  to  program." 

"Why  what's  the  matter,  Mickey?" 

"Just  what  I  told  you  would  be  when  it  came  to  getting 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      419 

a  job  here;  but  I  didn't  figure  on  street  sharks  picking  on 
Junior  and  robbing  him,  and  following  him  to  my  room, 
and  slugging  him  'til  he  can't  walk.  You  come  Peter,  and 
come  in  a  hurry,  and  Peter " 

"You  better  let  me  start "  said  Peter. 

"Yes,  but  Peter,  one  minute,"  insisted  Mickey.  "I 
got  something  to  say  to  you.  This  didn't  work  out  as  I 
planned,  and  I'm  awful  sorry,  and  you'll  be  too.  But 
Junior  is  cured  done  enough  to  suit  you;  he  won't  ever 
want  to  leave  you  again,  you  can  bank  on  that — and  he 
ain't  hurt  permanent;  but  if  you  have  got  anything  in 
your  system  that  sounds  even  a  little  bit  like  'I  told  you 
so,'  forget  it  on  the  way  in,  and  leave  instructions  with  the 
family  to  do  the  same.  See?  Junior  is  awful  sore!  He 
don't  need  anything  rubbed  in  in  the  way  of  reminiscences. 
He's  ready  to  do  the  talking.  See?" 

"  Yes.     You're  sure  he  ain't  really  hurt  ? " 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "Three  days  will  fix  him,  but 
Peter,  it's  been  mighty  rough!  Go  easy,  will  you?" 

"Mickey  have  you  got  money " 

"All  we  need.  Just  you  get  here  with  the  car,  and  put 
in  a  comfort  and  pillow.  All  my  stuff  is  gone!" 

Peter  Senior  arrived  in  a  surprisingly  short  time,  knelt 
on  the  floor  and  looked  closely  at  his  sleeping  boy. 

"Naked  and  beaten  to  insensibility,  you  say?" 

Mickey  nodded. 

"Nothing  to  eat  for  nearly  two  days?" 

Another  affirmation.  Peter  arose,  pushed  back  his  hat 
and  wiped  the  sweat  from  his  brow. 

"I  haven't  been  thinking  about  anything  but  him  ever 


420  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

since  he  left,"  he  said,  "and  what  makes  me  the  sorest  is 
that  the  longer  1  think  of  it,  the  surer  I  get  that  this  is  my 
fault.  I  didn't  raise  him  right!" 

"Aw-w-ah  Peter!"  protested  Mickey. 

"I've  got  it  all  studied  out,"  said  Peter,  "and  I  didn't! 
There  have  been  two  mistakes,  Junior's  and  mine,  and  of 
the  two,  mine  is  twice  as  big  as  the  boy's." 

Peter  stooped  and  picked  up  his  son,  who  stirred  and 
awakened.  When  he  found  himself  in  his  father's  arms 
Junior  clung  to  him  and  whispered  over  and  over:  "Father, 
dear  father!"  Peter  gripped  him  with  all  his  might  and 
whispered  back:  "Forgive  me  son!  Forgive  me!" 

"Well  I  don't  know  what  for?"  sobbed  Junior. 

"You  will  before  long,"  said  Peter.  He  drove  to  a  cool 
place,  and  let  the  car  stand  while  he  called  his  wife,  and 
explained  all  of  the  situation  he  saw  fit.  She  was  waiting 
at  the  gate  when  they  came.  She  never  said  a  word  ex- 
cept to  urge  Junior  to  sit  up  to  the  table  and  eat  his  supper. 
But  Junior  had  no  appetite. 

"I  want  to  run  things  here  for  a  few  minutes,"  he  said. 
"When  the  children  finish,  put  them  to  bed,  and  then  let 
me  tell  you,  and  you  can  decide  what  you'll  do  to  me." 

"Well,  don't  you  worry  about  that,"  said  Peter. 

"No  I  won't,"  said  Junior,  "because  there's  nothing 
you  can  do  that  will  be  half  I  deserve." 

When  the  little  folks  were  asleep,  and  Mickey  had 
helped  Mrs.  Harding  finish  the  work,  and  Jud  Jason  had 
been  paid  five  dollars  for  his  contract  and  had  gone  home, 
Junior  lay  in  the  hammock  on  the  front  porch,  while  his 
father,  mother  and  Mickey  sat  close.  When  he  started  to 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      421 

speak  Peter  said:  "Now  Junior,  wait  a  minute!  You've 
been  gone  a  week,  and  during  that  time  I've  used  my 
brains  more  than  I  ever  did  in  a  like  period,  even  when  I 
was  courting  your  Ma,  and  the  subject  I  laboured  on  was 
what  took  you  away  from  us.  I've  found  out  why  you 
were  not  satisfied,  and  who  made  you  dissatisfied.  The 
guilty  party  is  Peter  Harding,  aided  and  abetted  by  one 
Nancy  Harding,  otherwise  known  as  Ma " 

"Why  father!"  interrupted  Junior. 

"Silence!"  said  Peter.  "I've  just  found  out  that  it's  a 
man's  job  to  be  the  head  of  his  family,  and  I'm  going  to 
be  the  head  of  mine  after  this,  and  like  Mickey  here,  'I'm 
going  to  keep  it.'  Let  me  finish.  I've  spent  this  week 
thinking,  and  all  the  things  I  have  thought  would  make  a 
bigger  book  than  the  dictionary  if  they  were  set  down. 
Why  should  you  ask  to  be  forgiven  for  a  desire  to  go  to 
Multiopolis  when  I  carried  you  there  as  a  baby,  led  you  as 
a  toddler,  and  went  with  you  every  chance  I  could  trump 
up  as  a  man?  Who  bought  and  fed  you  painted,  adulter- 
ated candy  as  a  child,  when  your  Ma  should  have  made 
you  pure  clean  taffy  at  home  from  our  maple  syrup  or  as 
good  sugar  as  we  could  buy?  Often  I've  spent  money 
that  now  should  be  on  interest,  for  fruit  that  looked  fine 
to  you  there,  and  proved  to  be  grainy,  too  mellow,  sour 
or  not  half  so  good  as  what  you  _iad  at  home. 

"I  never  took  you  hunting,  or  fishing,  or  camping,  or 
s\vimming,  in  your  life;  but  I  haven't  had  a  mite  of  trouble 
to  find  time  and  money  to  take  you  to  circuses,  which  I 
don't  regret,  I'll  do  again;  and  picture  shows-  which  I'll  do 
also;  and  other  shows.  I'm  not  condemning  any  form  of 


422  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 


I 


amusement  we  ever  patronized  so  much,  we'll  probably  do 
all  of  it  again;  but  what  gets  me  now,  is  how  I  ever  came  to 
think  that  the  only  interesting  things  and  those  worth 
taking  time  and  spending  money  on,  were  running  to 
Multiopolis,  to  eat,  to  laugh,  to  look,  and  getting  little  to 
show  for  it  but  disappointment  and  suffering  for  all  of  us. 
You  haven't  had  the  only  punishment  that's  struck  the 
Harding  family  this  week,  Junior.  Your  Ma  and  I  have 
had  our  share,  and  I  haven't  asked  her  if  she  has  got 
enough,  but  speaking  strictly  for  myself,  I  have." 

"I  wouldn't  live  through  it  again  for  the  farm,"  sobbed 
Mrs.  Harding.  "I  see  what  you  are  getting  at  Pa,  and 
it's  we  who  are  the  guilty  parties,  just  as  you  say." 

Junior  sat  up  and  stared  at  them. 

"I  don't  so  much  regret  the  things  I  did,"  said  Peter, 
"as  I  condemn  myself  for  the  things  I  haven't  done.  I 
haven't  taught  you  to  ride  so  you  don't  look  a  spectacle  on  a 
horse,  and  yet  horses  should  come  as  natural  as  breathing 
to  you.  You  should  be  a  skilled  marksman;  you  couldn't 
hit  a  washtub  at  ten  paces.  You  should  swim  like  a  fish, 
with  a  hundred  lakes  in  your  country;  you'd  drown  if  you 
were  thrown  in  the  middle  of  one  and  left  to  yourself. 
You  ought  to  be  able  to  row  a  boat  as  well  as  it  can  be 
done,  and  cast  a  line  with  all  the  skill  any  lad  of  your  age 
possesses.  That  you  car.  .  make  even  a  fair  showing  at 
any  sport,  results  from  the  fact  that  every  time  your 
father  had  a  minute  to  spare  he  took  you  and  headed 
straight  for  Multiopolis.  Here's  the  golf  links  at  our  door, 
and  if  ever  any  game  was  a  farmer's  game,  and  if  any  man 
has  a  right  to  hold  up  his  head,  and  tramp  his  own  hills, 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      423 

and  swing  a  strong  arm  and  a  free  one,  and  make  a  mas- 
terly stroke,  it's  a  land  owner.  There's  no  reason  why 
plowing  and  tilling  should  dull  the  brains,  bend  the  back, 
or  make  a  packhorse  of  a  man.  Modern  methods  show 
you  how  to  do  the  same  thing  a  better  way,  how  to  work 
one  machine  instead  of  ten  men,  how  to  have  time  for  a 
vacation,  just  as  city  men  do,  and  how  to  have  money  for 
books,  and  music,  and  school,  instead  of  loading  with  so 
much  land  it's  a  burden  to  pay  the  taxes.  I  have  quite  a 
bunch  of  land  for  sale,  and  I  see  a  way  open  to  make  three 
times  the  money  I  ever  did,  with  half  the  hard  work.  We've 
turned  over  a  new  leaf  at  this  place  from  start  to  finish, 
including  the  house,  barn,  land,  and  family.  A  year  from 
now  you  won't  know  any  of  us;  but  that  later.  Just  now, 
it's  this:  I'm  pointing  out  to  you  Junior,  exactly  how  you 
came  to  have  your  hankering  for  Multiopolis.  I  can  see 
you  followed  the  way  we  set  you  thinking,  that  all  the 
amusing  things  were  there,  the  smart  people,  the  fine 
clothes,  the  wealth,  and  the  freedom — 

''Yes  you  ought  to  see  the  'amusing  things'  and  the 
'happy  people'  when  your  stomach's  cramping  and  your 
head  splitting!"  cried  Junior.  "I  tell  you  down  among 
them  it  looks  different  from  riding  past  in  an  automobile." 

"Exactly!"  conceded  Peter.  "Exactly  what  I'm  com- 
ing at.  All  your  life  I've  given  you  the  wrong  viewpoint. 
Now  you  can  busy  yourselves  planning  how  to  make  our 
share  of  the  world  over,  so  it  will  bring  all  the  joy  of  life 
right  to  the  front  door.  I  guess  the  first  big  thing  is  to 
currycomb  the  whole  place,  and  fix  it  as  it  should  be  to  be 
most  convenient  for  us.  Then  we  better  take  a  course  of 


424  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

training  in  making  up  our  minds  to  be  satisfied  with  what 
we  can  afford.  Junior,  does  home  look  better  to  you  than 
it  did  this  time  last  week?" 

"Father,"  began  Junior,  and  sobbed  aloud. 

"The  answer  is  sufficient,"  said  Peter  dryly.  "Never 
mind  son!  When,  with  our  heads  put  together.  v,e 
get  our  buildings  and  land  fixed  right,  I  suggest  that  we 
also  fix  our  clothes  and  our  belongings  right.  I  can't 
see  any  reason  why  a  woman  as  lovely  as  Ma,  should  be 
told  from  any  other  pretty  woman,  by  her  walk  or  dress. 
I  don't  know  why  a  man  as  well  set  up  as  I  am,  shouldn't 
wear  his  clothes  as  easy  as  the  men  at  the  club  house.  I 
can't  see  why  we  shouldn't  be  at  that  same  club  house  for 
a  meal  once  in  a  while,  just  to  keep  us  satisfied  with  home 
cooking,  and  that  game  looks  interesting.  Next  trip  to 
Multiopolis  I  make,  I'm  going  to  get  saddles  for  Junior 
and  Mickey  and  teach  them  what  I  know  about  how  to  sit 
and  handle  a  horse  properly;  and  it  needn't  be  a  plow 
horse  either.  Next  day  off  I  have,  I'm  going  to  spend 
hauling  lumber  to  one  of  these  lakes  we  decide  on,  to 
build  a  house  for  a  launch  and  fishing-boat  for  us.  Then 
when  we  have  a  vacation,  we'll  drive  there,  shelter  our 
car,  and  enjoy  ourselves  like  the  city  folks  by  the  thou- 
sand, since  we  think  what  they  do  so  right  and  fine. 
They've  showed  us  what  they  like,  flocking  five  thousand 
at  a  clip,  to  Red  Wing  Lake  a  few  miles  from  us.  Since 
we  live  among  what  they  are  spending  their  thousands 
every  summer  to  enjoy,  let's  help  ourselves  to  a  little 
pleasure.  I  am  going  to  buy  each  of  us  a  fishing  rod,  and 
get  a  box  of  tackle,  soon  as  I  reach  it,  and  I'm  going  fast. 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      425 

I've  wasted  sixteen  years,  now  I'm  on  the  homestretch, 
and  it's  going  to  be  a  stretch  of  all  there  is  in  me  to  make 
our  home  the  sweetest,  grandest  place  on  earth  to  us. 
Will  you  help  me,  Nancy?" 

"I  think  maybe  I'll  be  saved  nervous  prostration  if  I 
can  help  just  a  few  of  these  things  to  take  place." 

"Yes,  I've  sensed  that,"  said  Peter.  "Mickey  pointed 
that  out  to  me  the  morning  you  jumped  your  job  and 
headed  for  sunup.  For  years,  just  half  your  time  and 
strength  has  been  thrown  away  using  old  methods  and  im- 
plements in  your  work,  and  having  the  kitchen  unhandy  and 
inconvenient;  and  I'm  the  man  who  should  have  seen  it,  and 
got  you  right  tools  for  your  job  at  the  same  time  I  bought  a 
houseful  for  myself  and  my  work.  We  must  stir  up  this 
whole  neighbourhood,  and  build  a  big  entertainment 
house,  where  we  can  have  a  library  suitable  for  country 
folks,  and  satisfying  to  their  ways  of  life.  It's  got  to  have 
music  boxes  in  it,  and  a  floor  fit  for  dancing  and  skating, 
and  a  stage  for  our  own  entertainments,  and  the  folks  we 
decide  to  bring  here  to  amuse  us.  We  can  put  in  a  picture 
machine  and  a  screen,  that  we  can  pay  for  by  charging  a 
few  cents  admission  the  nights  we  run  it,  and  rent  films 
once  or  twice  a  week  from  a  good  city  show.  We  could 
fix  up  a  place  like  that,  and  get  no  end  of  fun  and  educa- 
tion out  of  it,  without  going  thirty  miles  and  spending 
enough  money  in  one  night  to  get  better  entertainment  for 
a  month  at  home,  and  in  a  cool,  comfortable  hall,  and 
where  we  can  go  from  it  to  bed  in  a  few  minutes.  Once 
I  am  started,  with  Mickey  and  Junior  to  help  me,  I'm 
going  to  call  a  meeting  and  talk  these  things  over  with 


426  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

my  neighbours,  and  get  them  to  join  in  if  I  can.  If  I 
can't,  I'll  go  on  and  put  up  the  building  and  start  things 
as  I  think  they  should  be,  and  charge  enough  admittance 
to  get  back  what  I  invest;  and  after  that,  just  enough  to 
pay  running  expenses  and  for  the  talent  we  use.  I'm  so 
sure  it  can  be  done,  I'm  going  to  do  it.  Will  you  help  me, 
son?" 

"Yes  father,  I'd  think  it  was  fine  to  help  do  that,"  said 
Junior.  "Now  may  I  say  what  I  want  to?" 

"Why  yes,  you  might  son,"  said  Peter,  "but  to  tell  the 
truth  I  can't  see  that  you  have  anything  to  say.  If  you 
have  got  the  idea,  Junior,  that  you  have  wronged  us  any, 
and  that  it's  your  job  to  ask  us  to  forgive  you  for  wanting 
to  try  the  things  we  started  and  kept  you  hankering  after 
all  your  life  so  far,  why  you're  mistaken.  If  I'd  trained 
you  from  your  cradle  to  love  your  home,  as  I've  trained 
you  to  love  Multiopolis,  you  never  would  have  left  us. 
So  if  there  is  forgiving  in  the  air,  you  please  forgive  me. 
And  this  includes  your  Ma  as  well.  I  should  ask  her  for- 
giveness too,  for  a  whole  lot  of  things  that  I  bungled  about, 
when  I  thought  I  was  loving  her  all  I  possibly  could.  I've 
got  a  new  idea  of  love  so  big  and  all-encompassing  it  in- 
cludes a  fireless  cooker  and  a  dish-washing  machine.  I'm 
going  to  put  it  in  practice  for  a  year;  then  if  my  family 
wants  to  change  back,  we'll  talk  about  it." 

"  But  father "  began  Junior. 

"Go  to  bed  son,"  said  Peter.  "You  can  tell  us  what 
happened  when  you  ain't  as  sleepy  as  you  are  right 
now." 

Junior  arose  and  followed  his  mother  to  the  kitchen. 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD  •  427 

"Ain't  he  going  to  let  me  tell  what  a  fool  I've  been  at 
all?"  he  demanded. 

"I  guess  your  Pa  felt  that  when  he  got  through  telling 
what  fools  we've  been,  there  wasn't  anything  left  for  you 
to  say.  I  know  I  feel  that  way.  This  neighbourhood  does 
all  in  its  power,  from  the  day  their  children  are  born,  to 
teach  them  that  home  is  only  a  stopping-place,  to  eat,  and 
sleep,  and  work,  and  be  sick  in;  and  that  every  desirable 
thing  in  life  is  to  be  found  somewhere  else,  the  else  being,  in 
most  cases,  Multiopolis.  Just  look  at  it  year  after  year 
gobbling  up  our  boys  and  girls,  and  think  over  the  ones 
you  know  who  have  gone,  and  see  what  they've  come  to. 
Among  the  men  as  far  as  I  remember,  Joel  Harris  went 
into  a  law  office  and  made  a  rich,  respectable  man;  and 
two  girls  married  and  have  good  homes;  the  others,  many 
of  them,  I  couldn't  name  to  you  the  places  they  are  in. 
This  neighbourhood  needs  reforming,  and  if  Pa  has  set 
out  to  attempt  it,  I'll  lend  a  hand,  and  I  guess  from  what 
you  got  this  week,  you'll  be  in  a  position  to  help  better 
than  you  could  have  helped  before." 

"Yes  I  guess  so  too,"  said  Junior  emphatically. 

He  gladly  went  back  to  the  cream  wagon.  Peter  didn't 
want  him  to,  but  there  was  a  change  in  Junior.  He 
was  no  longer  a  wilful  discontented  boy.  He  was  a  part- 
ner, who  was  greatly  interested  in  a  business  and  felt  dis- 
satisfied if  he  were  not  working  at  furthering  it.  He  had 
little  to  say,  but  his  eyes  were  looking  far  ahead  in  deep 
thought.  The  first  morning  he  started  out,  while  Junior 
unhitched  his  horse,  Peter  filled  the  wagon  and  went  back 
to  the  barn  where  Mickey  was  helping  him. 


428  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Junior,  passing,  remembered  he  had  promised  Jud  Jason 
to  bring  a  bundle  he  had  left  there,  and  stopped  for  it.  He 
stepped  into  the  small  front  door  and  bent  for  the  package 
lying  in  sight,  when  clearly  and  distinctly  arose  Mickey's 
voice  lifted  to  reach  Peter,  at  another  task. 

"Course  I  meant  him  to  get  enough  to  make  him  good 
and  sick  of  it,  like  we  agreed  on;  but  I  never  intended  him 
to  get  any  such  a  dose  as  he  had." 

Junior  straightened  swiftly,  an  astonished  look  crossed 
his  face,  and  his  lower  jaw  dropped.  His  father's  reply 
was  equally  audible. 

"Of  course  I  understand  that,  Mickey." 

"  Surest  thing  you  know ! "  said  Mickey.  "  I  like  Junior. 
I  like  him  better  than  any  other  boy  I  ever  knew,  and  I've 
known  hundreds.  I  tell  you  Peter,  he  was  gamer  than 
you'll  ever  believe  to  hang  on  as  long  as  he  did." 

"Yes  I  think  that  too,"  said  Peter. 

"You  know  he  didn't  come  because  he  was  all  in,"  ex- 
plained Mickey.  "You  can  take  a  lot  of  pride  in  that. 
He'd  about  been  the  limit  when  he  quit.  And  he  quit, 
not  because  he  was  robbed  and  knocked  out,  but  because 
what  he  had  seen  showed  him  that  Multiopolis  wasn't  the 
job  he  wanted  for  a  life  sentence.  Seer " 

"I  hope  you  are  right  about  that,"  said  Peter.  "I'm 
glad  to  my  soul  to  get  him  home,  cured  in  any  way;  but 
it  sort  of  gags  me  to  think  of  him  as  having  been  scared 
out.  It  salves  my  vanity  considerable  to  feel,  as  you  say, 
that  he  had  the  brains  to  sense  the  situation,  and  quit 
because  he  felt  it  wasn't  the  work  for  which  he  was 
bom." 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      429 

Then  Mickey's  voice  came  eagerly,  earnestly,  warming 
the  cockles  of  Junior's  heart. 

"Now  lemme  tell  you  Peter;  I  was  there,  and  I  know. 
It  was  that  way.  It  was  just  that  way  exact  !  He  wasn't 
scared  out,  he'd  have  gone  at  it  again,  all  right,  if  he'd  seen 
anything  in  it  he  wanted.  It  was  just  as  his  mother  felt 
when  she  first  talked  it  over  with  me,  and  the  same  with 
you  later:  that  if  he  got  to  the  city,  and  got  right  up  against 
earning  a  living  there,  he  would  find  it  wasn't  what  ha 
wanted;  and  he  did,  like  all  of  us  thought.  Course  I 
meant  to  put  it  to  him  stiff;  I  meant  to  'niciate  him  in  the 
ancient  and  honourable  third  degree  of  Multiopolis  all 
right,  so  he'd  have  enough  to  last  a  lifetime;  but  I  only 
meant  to  put  him  up  against  what  I'd  had  myself  on  the 
streets;  I  was  just  going  to  test  his  ginger;  I  wasn't  count- 
ing on  the  robbing,  and  the  alleys,  and  the  knockout,  and 
the  morgue.  Gee,  Peter!" 

Then  they  laughed.  A  dull  red  surged  up  Junior's 
neck,  and  flooded  his  face.  He  picked  up  the  bundle, 
went  silently  from  the  barn,  and  climbed  on  the  wagon. 
The  jerk  of  the  horse  stopping  at  its  accustomed  place  told 
him  when  to  load  the  first  can.  He  had  been  thinking  so 
deeply  he  was  utterly  oblivious  to  everything  save  the 
thought  that  it  had  been  prearranged  among  them  to 
"cure"  him;  even  his  mother  knew  about,  if  he  heard 
aright,  had  been  the  instigator  of  the  scheme  to  let  him  go, 
to  be  what  Mickey  called  "initiated  in  the  ancient  and 
honourable  third  degree  of  Multiopolis." 

Once  he  felt  so  outraged  he  thought  of  starting  the  horse 
home,  taking  the  trolley,  going  back  to  Multiopolis  and 


430  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

fighting  his  way  to  what  his  father  would  be  compelled  to 
acknowledge  success.  He  knew  that  he  could  do  it;  he  was 
on  the  point  of  vowing  that  he  would  do  it;  but  in  his  heart 
he  knew  better  than  any  one  else  how  repulsed  he  was,  how 
he  hated  it,  and  against  a  vision  of  weary  years  of  fighting, 
came  that  other  vision  of  himself  planning  and  working  be- 
side his  father  to  change  and  improve  their  home  life. 

"Say  Junior  are  you  asleep?"  called  Jud  Jason.  "You 
sit  there  like  you  couldn't  move.  D'ye  bring  my  bundle  ? " 

"Yes,  it's  back  there,"  answered  Junior.     "Get  it!" 

"How'd  you  like  Multiopolis?"  asked  Jud. 

Junior  knew  he  had  that  to  face. 

"It's  a  cold-blooded  sell,  Jud,"  he  said  promptly.  "I'm 
glad  I  went  when  I  did,  and  found  out  for  myself.  You 
see  it's  like  this,  Jud:  I  could  have  stayed  and  made  my 
way;  but  I  found  out  in  a  few  days  that  I  wouldn't  give  a 
snap  for  the  way  when  it  was  made.  We  fellows  are  better 
off  right  where  we  are,  and  a  lot  of  us  are  ready  to  throw 
away  exactly  what  many  of  the  men  in  Multiopolis  are  wild 
to  get.  Now  let  me  tell  you ' 

Junior  told  him,  and  through  putting  his  experience  into 
words,  he  eased  his  heart  and  cleared  his  brain.  He  came 
to  hints  of  great  and  wonder-working  things  that  were 
going  to  happen  soon.  There  was  just  a  possibility  that 
Jud  gleaned  an  idea  that  the  experience  in  Multiopolis  had 
brought  his  friend  home  to  astound  and  benefit  the  neigh- 
bourhood. At  any  rate  Junior  picked  up  the  lines  with  all 
the  sourness  gone  from  his  temperament,  which  was 
usually  sweet,  except  that  one  phrase  of  Mickey's,  and  the 
laughter.  Suddenly  he  leaned  forward. 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      431 

"  Jud,  come  here,"  he  said.  Junior  began  to  speak,  and 
Jud  began  to  understand  and  sympathize  with  the  boy  he 
had  known  from  childhood. 

"Could  we?"  asked  Junior. 

"'Could  we?'     Well,  I  just  guess  we  could!" 

"When?"  queried  Junior. 

"This  afternoon,  if  he's  going  to  be  off,"  said  Jud. 

"Well  I  don't  know  what  his  plans  are,  but  I  could  tele- 
phone from  here  and  by  rustling  I  could  get  back  by  two. 
I've  done  it  on  a  bet.  Where  will  we  go,  and  what  for?" 

"To  Atwater.     Fishing  is  good  enough  excuse." 

"All  right!     Father  will  let  me  take  the  car." 

"Hayseed!  Isn't  walking  good  enough  to  suit  you? 
What's  the  matter  with  the  Elkhart  swale,  Atwater  marsh, 
and  the  woods  around  the  head  of  the  lake — 

"Hold  the  horse  till  I  run  in  and  'phone  him." 

When  he  came  down  the  walk  he  reported:  "He  wants 
to  go  fishing  awful  bad,  and  he'll  be  ready  by  two.  That's 
all  settled  then.  We'll  have  a  fine  time." 

"Bully!"  said  Jud  laconically,  and  started  to  the  house 
of  another  friend,  where  a  few  words  secured  a  boy  of  his 
age  a  holiday.  Junior  drove  fast  as  he  dared  and  hurried 
with  his  work;  so  he  reached  home  a  little  before  two, 
where  he  found  Mickey  with  poles  and  a  big  can  of  worms 
ready.  Despite  the  pressing  offer  of  the  car,  they  walked, 
in  order  to  show  Mickey  the  country  which  he  was  eager  to 
explore  on  foot.  Junior  said  the  sunfish  were  big  as  lunch 
plates  at  Atwater,  the  perch  fine,  and  often  if  you  caught  a 
grasshopper  or  a  cricket  for  b  -it,  you  got  a  big  bass  around 
the  shore,  and  if  they  had  the  luck  to  reach  the  lake,  when 


432  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

there  was  no  one  ahead  of  them,  and  secured  a  boat  they 
were  sure  of  taking  some. 

"Wouldn't  I  like  to  see  Lily  eating  a  fish  I  caught,"  said 
Mickey,  searching  the  grass  and  kicking  rotting  wood  as 
he  saw  Junior  doing  to  find  bass  bait. 

"Minnies  are  the  real  thing,"  explained  Junior.  "When 
we  get  the  scheme  father  laid  out  going,  before  we  start 
fishing,  you  and  I  will  take  a  net  and  come  to  this  creek 
and  catch  a  bucketful  of  right  bait,  and  then  we'll  have 
man's  sport,  for  sure.  Won't  it  be  great?" 

"Exactly  what  the  plutes  are  doing,"  said  Mickey. 
"Gee,  Junior,  if  your  Pa  does  all  the  thin  s  he  said  he  was 
going  to,  you'll  be  a  plute  yourself!" 

"Never  heard  him  say  anything  in  my  life  he  didn't 
do,*'  said  Junior,  "and  didn't  you  notice  that  he  put  you 
in  too?  You'll  be  just  as  much  of  a  plute  as  I  will." 

"Not  on  your  bromide,"  said  Mickey.  "He  is  your 
father,  and  you'll  be  in  business  with  him;  I'll  just  be  along 
sometimes,  as  a  friend,  maybe." 

"I  usually  take  father  at  just  what  he  says.  I  guess  he 
means  you  to  stay  in  our  family,  if  you  like." 

"I  wonder  now!"  said  Mickey. 

"Looks  like  it  to  me.  Father  and  mother  both  like  you, 
and  they're  daffy  about  Peaches." 

"It's  because  she's  so  little,  and  so  white,  and  so  help- 
less," Mickey  hastened  to  explain,  "and  so  awful  sweet!" 

"Well  for  whatever  it  is,  it  is"  said  Junior,  "and  I'm 
just  as  crazy  about  her  as  the  rest.  Look  out  kid!  That 
fellow's  coming  right  at  us ! ' 

Junior  dashed  for  the  fence,  while  Mickey  lost  time  in 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      433" 

turning  to  see  what  "that  fellow"  might  be;  so  he  faced 
the  ram  that  had  practised  on  Malcolm  Minturn.  With 
lowered  head,  the  ram  sprang  at  Mickey.  He  flew  in  air, 
and  it  butted  space  and  whirled  again,  so  that  before  the 
boy's  breath  was  fully  recovered  he  lifted  once  more,  with 
all  the  agility  learned  on  the  streets  of  Multiopolis;  but 
that  time  the  broad  straw  hat  he  wore  to  protect  his  eyes 
on  the  water,  sailed  from  his  head;  he  dropped  the  poles, 
and  as  the  ram  came  back  at  him  he  hit  it  squarely  in  the 
face  with  the  bait  can,  which  angered  rather  than  daunted 
it.  Then  for  a  few  minutes  Mickey  was  too  busy  to  know 
exactly  what  happened,  and  movements  were  too  quick  for 
Junior.  When  he  saw  that  Mickey  was  tiring,  and  the 
ram  was  not,  he  caught  a  rail  from  the  fence  and  helped 
subdue  the  ram.  Panting  they  climbed  the  fence  and  sat 
resting. 

"Why  I  didn't  know  Higgins  had  that  ram,"  said  Jun- 
ior. "We  fellows  always  crossed  that  field  before.  Say, 
there  ain't  much  in  that 

'Gentle  sheep  pray  tell  me  why, 
In  the  pleasant  fields  you  lie?' 

business,  is  there?" 

"Not  much  but  the  lie,"  said  Mickey  earnestly. 

Junior  dropped  from  the  fence  and  led  the  way  toward 
a  wood  thick  with  underbrush,  laughing  until  his  heart 
pained.  As  they  proceeded  they  heard  voices. 

"Why  that  sounds  like  my  bunch,"  said  Junior. 

He  whistled  shrilly,  which  brought  an  immediate  re- 
sponse, and  soon  two  boys  appeared. 


434  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Hello!  "said  Junior. 

"Hello!"  answered  they. 

"Where're  you  going?"  asked  Junior. 

"To  Atwater  Lake,  fishing.     Where  you?" 

"There  too!"  said  Junior.  "Why  great!  We'll  go  to- 
gether!  Sam,  this  is  Mickey." 

Mickey  offered  his  hand  and  formalities  were  over. 

"But  I  threw  our  worms  at  the  ram,"  said  Mickey. 

"Well  that  was  a  smart  trick!"  cried  Junior. 

"Wasn't  it?"  agreed  Mickey.  "But  you  see  the  ram 
was  coming  and  I  had  the  worms  in  my  strong  right,  so  I 
didn't  stop  to  think  I'd  spent  an  hour  digging  them;  I  just 
whaled  away " 

"Never  mind  worms,"  said  Jud.  "I  guess  we  got 
enough  to  divide;  if  you  fellows  want  to  furnish  something 
for  your  share,  you  can  find  some  grubs  in  these  woods,  and 
we'll  get  more  chance  at  the  bass." 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "What  are  grubs  and  where  do 
you  look  for  them?" 

"Oh  anywhere  under  rotting  wood  and  round  old  logs," 
said  Jud.  "B'lieve  it's  a  good  place  right  here,  Mickey; 
dig  in  till  I  cut  a  stick  to  help  with." 

Mickey  pushed  aside  the  bushes,  dropped  on  his  knees 
and  "dug  in."  A  second  later,  with  a  wild  shriek,  he 
rolled  over  and  over  striking  and  screaming. 

"Yellow  jackets!"  shouted  Jud.  "Quick  fellers,  help 
Mickey!  He's  got  too  close  a  nest!" 

Armed  with  branches  they  came  beating  the  air  and 
him;  until  Mickey  had  a  fleeting  thought  that  if  the  red- 
hot  needles  piercing  him  did  not  kill,  the  boys  would. 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      435 

Presently  he  found  himself  beside  a  mudhole  and  as  the 
others  "ouched"  and  "o-ohed"  and  bewailed  their  fate, 
and  grabbed  mud  and  plastered  it  on,  he  did  the  same. 
Jud  generously  offered,  as  he  had  not  so  many  stings,  to 
help  Mickey.  Soon  even  the  adoring  eyes  of  Peaches 
could  not  have  told  her  idol  from  the  mudhole.  He 
twisted  away  from  an  approaching  handful  crying:  "Gee 
Jud!  Leave  a  feller  room  to  breathe!  If  you  are  going  to 
smother  me,  I  might  as  well  die  from  bites ! " 

"Bites!"  cried  the  boys  while  all  of  them  laughed  wildly, 
so  wildly  that  Mickey  flushed  with  shame  to  think  he  had 
so  little  appreciation  of  the  fun  calling  a  sting  a  bite,  when 
it  was  explained  to  him. 

"Well  they  sure  do  get  down  to  business,"  he  chattered, 
chilling  from  the  exquisite  pain  of  a  dozen  yellow-jacket 
stings,  one  of  which  on  his  left  eyelid  was  rapidly  closing 
that  important  organ.  He  bowed  a  willing  head  for  Jud's 
application  of  cold  mud. 

Finally  they  gathered  up  their  poles  and  bait  and  again 
started  toward  the  lake.  The  day  was  warm,  and  there 
was  little  air  in  the  marsh,  and  on  the  swampy  shore  they 
followed.  Suddenly  Jud  cried:  "I  tell  you  fellows,  what's 
the  use  of  walking  all  the  way  round  the  lake?  Bet  the 
boats  will  be  taken  when  we  get  there!  Let's  cut  fishing 
and  go  swimming  right  here  where  there's  a  cool,  shady 
place.  It  will  be  good  for  you  Mickey,  it  will  cool  off  your 
stings  a  lot." 

Mickey  promptly  began  to  unbutton,  and  the  others 
did  the  same.  Then  they  made  their  way  through  the 
swamp  tangle  lining  the  shore  at  the  head  of  the  lake,  and 


436  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

tried  to  reach  the  water  beside  the  tamaracks.  Sam  and 
Junior  found  solid  footing,  and  waded  toward  deep  water. 
Jud  piloted  Mickey  to  a  spot  he  thought  sufficiently 
treacherous,  and  said:  "Looks  good  here;  you  go  ahead 
Mickey,  and  I'll  come  after  you." 

Mickey  was  unaccustomed  to  the  water.  He  waded  in 
with  the  assurance  he  had  seen  the  others  use,  but  sud- 
denly he  cried:  "Gee  boys,  I'm  sucking  right  down!" 

Then  on  his  ears  fell  a  deafening  clamour.  "Help!  Help! 
Quicksands!  Mickey's  sinking!  Help  him!" 

Mickey  threw  out  his  arms.  He  grabbed  wildly;  while  a 
force,  seemingly  gentle  but  irresistible,  sucked  him  lower 
and  lower,  and  with  each  inch  it  bore  him  down,  gripped 
tighter,  and  pulled  faster.  When  he  glanced  at  the  boys 
he  saw  panic  in  their  faces,  and  he  realized  that  he  was 
probably  lost,  and  they  were  terror  stricken.  The  first 
gulp  of  tepid  shore  water  that  strangled  him  in  running 
across  his  gasping  lips  made  him  think  of  Peaches.  Strug- 
gling he  threw  back  his  head  and  so  saw  a  widespreading 
branch  of  a  big  maple  not  far  above  him.  All  that  was 
left  of  Mickey  went  into  the  cry:  "Junior!  Bend  me  that 
branch!"  Junior  swiftly  climbed  the  tree,  crept  on  the 
limb,  and  swayed  it  till  it  swept  the  water,  then  Mickey 
laid  hold;  just  a  few  twigs,  and  then  as  Junior  backed,  and 
the  branch  lifted  higher  and  higher,  Mickey  worked,  hand 
over  hand,  and  finally  grasped  twigs  that  promised  to 
stand  a  gentle  pull. 

Then  Jud  began  to  shout  instructions:  "Little  lower, 
Junior!  Get  a  better  grip  before  you  pull  hard,  Mickey! 
Maple  is  brittle!  Easy!  It  will  snap  with  you!  Kind  of 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      437 

roll  yourself  and  turn  to  let  the  water  in  and  loosen  the 
sand.  Now  roll  again!  Now  pull  a  little!  You're  mak- 
ing it!  You  are  out  to  your  shoulders!  Back  farther, 
Junior!  Don't  you  fall  in,  or  you'll  both  go  down!" 

Mickey  was  very  quiet  now.  His  small  face  was  pallid 
with  the  terror  of  leaving  Peaches  forever  with  no  provi- 
sion for  her  safety.  The  grip  of  the  sucking  sand  was  yet 
pulling  at  his  legs  and  body;  while  if  the  branch  broke  he 
knew  what  it  meant;  that  sucking,  insistent  pulling,  and 
caving  away  beneath  his  feet  told  him.  Suddenly  Mickey 
gave  up  struggling,  set  his  teeth,  and  began  righting  by  in- 
stinct. He  moved  his  shoulders  gently,  until  he  let  the 
water  flow  in,  then  instead  of  trying  to  work  his  feet  he 
held  them  rigid  and  flattened  as  he  could,  and  with  the 
upper  part  of  his  body  still  rolling,  he  reached  higher, 
and  kept  inching  up  the  branch  as  Junior  backed  away, 
until  with  sickening  slowness  he  at  last  reached  wood  thick 
as  his  wrist.  Then  he  dragged  his  helpless  body  after  him 
to  safety,  where  he  sank  in  a  heap  to  rest. 

"Jud,  it's  a  good  thing  I  went  in  there  first,"  he  said. 
"Heavy  as  you  are,  you'd  a-been  at  the  bottom  by  now, 
if  there  is  any  bottom." 

Mickey's  gaze  travelled  slowly  over  his  lumpy,  purple 
frame,  and  then  he  looked  closely  at  the  others.  "Why 
them  stingers  must  a-give  about  all  of  it  to  me,"  he  com- 
mented. "I  don't  see  any  lumps  on  the  rest  of  you." 

"Oh  we  are  used  to  it,"  scoffed  Jud.  "They  don't 
show  on  you  after  you  get  used  to  them.  'Sides  most  all 
mine  are  on  my  head,  I  kept  'em  off  with  the  bushes." 

"So  did  I,"  chimed  in  Sam  and  Junior  with  one  voice. 


438  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"I  guess  I  did  get  a  lot  the  worst  of  it,"  conceded 
Mickey.  "But  if  they  only  stung  your  heads,  it's  funny 
you  didn't  know  where  to  put  your  mud!" 

"Well  I'll  tell  you,"  said  Jud  earnestly.  "On  your  head 
they  hurt  worst  of  all.  They  hurt  so  blame  bad,  you  get  so 
wild  like  you  don't  know  where  you  are  stung,  and  you 
think  till  you  cool  off  a  little,  you  got  them  all  over." 

"Yes  I  guess  you  do,"  agreed  Mickey. 

The  boys  were  slowly  putting  on  their  clothing  and 
Junior  was  scowling  darkly.  Jud  edged  close. 

"Gosh!"  he  whispered.  "I  thought  it  was  only  a  little 
spring!  I  didn't  think  it  was  a  quicksand!" 

"You  cut  out  anything  more!"  said  Junior  tersely. 

Jud  nodded.  After  a  while  they  started  home,  walk- 
ing slowly  and  each  one  being  particularly  careful  of  and 
good  to  Mickey.  When  he  had  rested,  he  could  see  that 
it  was  only  an  accident;  such  an  astounding  one  he  forgot 
his  bites  and  could  talk  of  little  else. 

They  made  another  long  pause  under  a  big  tree,  and 
Mickey  felt  so  much  better  as  they  again  started  home, 
that  Junior  lagged  behind,  and  Jud  seeing,  joined  him. 
Junior  asked  softly:  "Have  any  more?" 

Jud  nodded. 

"What?"  whispered  Junior. 

Jud  told  him. 

"Oh  that!    Nothing  in  that!    Goon!" 

So  they  struck  into  the  path  they  had  followed  from  the 
swamp  to  the  woods,  when  suddenly  a  warm,  yielding, 
coiling  thing  slipped  under  Mickey's  feet.  With  a  wild 
cry  he  leaped  across  the  body  of  a  big  rattlesnake  that  had 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      439 

been  coiled  in  the  path.  As  he  arose,  clear  cut  against 
the  light  launched  the  ugly  head  and  wide  jaws  of  the 
rattler,  then  came  the  sickening  buzz  of  its  rattles  in  mad 
recoil  for  a  second  stroke. 

"  Run  Mickey !     Jump ! "  screamed  Junior. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Mickey  bewildered. 

"  Rattlesnakes !     Sure  death ! "  yelled  Jud.    "  Run  fool !" 

But  Mickey  stood  perfectly  still,  and  looked,  not  where 
the  increasing  buzz  came  from,  but  at  them.  They  had 
no  choice.  Jud  carried  a  heavy  club;  he  threw  himself 
in  front  of  Mickey  and  as  the  second  stroke  came,  he 
swung  at  the  snake's  head.  The  other  boys  collected 
their  senses  and  beat  it  to  pulp,  then  the  dead  mate  it 
watched  beside.  Junior  glared  at  Jud,  but  when  he  saw 
how  frightened  he  was,  he  knew  what  had  happened. 

Mickey  gazed  at  the  snakes  in  horror. 

"Ain't  that  a  pretty  small  parcel  to  deal  out  sudden 
death  in?"  he  asked.  "And  if  they're  laying  round  like 
that,  ain't  we  taking  an  awful  risk  to  be  wading  through 
here,  this  way?  Gee,  they're  the  worst  sight  I  ever  saw! " 

Mickey  became  violently  ill.  He  lay  down  for  a  time, 
while  the  boys  waited  on  him,  and  at  last  when  he  could 
slowly  walk  toward  home,  they  went  on.  Jud  and  Sam 
left  them  at  the  creek,  and  Junior  and  Mickey  started  up 
the  Harding  lane.  Suddenly  Mickey  sat  down  in  a  fence 
corner,  leaned  against  the  rails,  and  closed  his  eyes. 

"Gee!"  he  said.     "Never  felt  so  rotten  in  all  my  life." 

"Maybe  that  snake  grazed  you." 

"If  it  did,  would  it  kill  me?"  asked  Mickey  dully. 

"Well  after  the  yellow-jacket  poison  in  your  blood,  and 


440  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

being  so  tired  and  hot,  you  wouldn't  stand  the  chance 
you'd  had  when  we  first  started,"  said  Junior.  "Do  you 
know  where  it  came  closest  to  you  ? " 

"  Back  of  my  legs,  I  s'pose,"  said  Mickey. 

"If  it  had  hit  you,  it  would  leave  two  places  like  needles 
stuck  in,  just  the  width  of  its  head  apart.  I  can't  find 
anything  that  looks  like  it,  thank  the  Lord!" 

"Here  too!"  said  Mickey.  "You  see  if  it  or  the  quick- 
sands had  finished  me,  I  haven't  things  fixed  for  Lily. 
They  might  ' ' geC  her  yet.  If  anything  should  happen  to 
me,  she  would  be  left  with  no  one  to  take  care  of  her." 

"  Father  would,"  offered  Junior.  "  Mother  never  would 
let  anybody  take  her.  I  know  she  wouldn't." 

"Well  I  don't,"  said  Mickey,  "and  here  is  where  guess- 
ing doesn't  cut  any  ice.  I  must  be  sure.  To-night  I'll 
ask  him.  I'd  like  to  know  how  it  happens  that  sudden 
death  has  just  been  rampaging  after  me  all  this  trip,  any- 
way. I  seemed  to  get  it  coming  or  going." 

Junior  did  not  hide  his  grin  quickly  enough. 

"Aw-w-w-ah!"  grated  Mickey,  suddenly  tense  and 
alert. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet.     So  did  Junior. 

"Say,  look  here —      "  cried  Mickey. 

"All  right,  'look  here,'"  retorted  Junior.  His  face 
flamed  red,  then  paled,  and  his  hands  gripped,  while  his 
jaw  protruded  in  an  ugly  scowl.  Then  slowly  and  dis- 
tinctly he  quoted:  "Course  I  meant  to  put  it  to  you  stiff; 
I  meant  to  'niciate  you  in  the  ancient  and  honourable 
third  degree  of  the  Country  all  right,  so's  you'd  have 
enough  to  last  a  lifetime;  but  I  only  meant  to  put  you  up 


INITIATIONS  IN  A  BROTHERHOOD      44! 

against  what  I'd  had  myself  in  the  fields  and  woods;  I  was 
just  going  to  test  your  ginger;  I  wasn't  counting  on  the 
quicksand,  and  the  live  snake,  finding  its  dead  mate  Jud 
fixed  for  you." 

"So  you  were  sneaking  in  the  barn  this  morning,  when 
we  thought  you  were  gone?"  demanded  Mickey. 

"Easy  you!"  cautioned  Junior.  "Going  after  the 
bundle  I  promised  Jud  was  not  sneaking " 

"So  'twasn't,"  conceded  Mickey,  instantly.  "So 
'twasn't!" 

He  looked  at  Junior  a  second. 

"You  heard  us,  then?"  he  demanded.     "All  of  it?" 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Junior.  "I  heard  what  I 
just  repeated,  and  what  you  said  about  my  being  game, 
and  exactly  why  I  came  back;  thank  you  for  that,  even  if 
I  lick  you  half  to  death  in  a  minute — and  I  heard  that  my 
own  mother  first  fixed  it  up  with  you,  and  then  father 
agreed.  Oh  I  heard  enough !" 

"And  so  you  got  a  grouch?"  commented  Mickey. 

"Yes  I  did,"  admitted  Junior.  "But  I  got  over  all  of 
it,  after  I'd  had  time  to  think,  but  that  third  degree  busi- 
ness; that  made  me  so  sore  I  told  Jud  about  it,  and  he 
said  he'd  help  me  pay  you  up;  but  we  struck  the  same  rock 
you  did,  in  giving  you  a  bigger  dose  than  we  meant  to. 
Honest  Mickey,  Jud  didn't  know  there  was  a  real  quick- 
sand there,  and  of  course  we  didn't  dream  a  live  snake 
would  follow  and  find  the  one  the  boys  hunted,  killed,  and 
set  for  you  this  morning 

"Awful  innocent!"  scoffed  Mickey.  "'Member  you 
didn't  know  about  the  ram  either?" 


442  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"  Honest  I  didn't,  Mickey,"  persisted  Junior.  "I  thought 
steering  you  into  the  yellow  jackets  was  to  be  the  first 
degree!  Cross  my  heart,  I  did." 

Suddenly  Mickey  whooped.  He  tumbled  on  the  grass 
in  the  fence  corner  and  twisted  in  wild  laughter  until  he 
was  worn  out.  Then  he  struggled  up,  and  held  out  his 
hard  to  Junior. 

"If  you're  willing,"  he  said,  "I'll  give  you  the  grip,  and 
the  password  will  be,  ' Brothers !'" 


M 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
MALCOLM  AND  THE  HERMIT  THRUSH 

"m        -rR.  DOVESKY,  I  want  a  minute  with  you,' 
said  James  Minturn. 

"All  right,  Mr.  Minturn,  what  is  it?" 

"You  are  well  acquainted  with  Mrs.  Minturn?" 

"Very  well  indeed!"  said  Mr.  Dovesky.  "I  have  had 
the  honour  of  working  with  her  in  many  concerts." 

"And  of  her  musical  ability  you  are  convinced?" 

"  Brilliant  is  the  only  word,"  exclaimed  the  Professor. 

"My  reason  for  asking  is  this,"  said  Mr.  Minturn: 
"one  of  our  boys,  the  second,  Malcolm,  is  like  his  mother,, 
and  lately  we  discovered  that  he  has  her  gift  in  music.  We 
ran  on  it  through  Miss  Leslie  Winton,  who  interested  Mrs. 
Minturn  in  certain  wild  birds." 

"Yes  I  know,"  cried  the  Professor  eagerly. 

"When  she  became  certain  that  she  had  heard  a — I 
think  she  said  Song  Sparrow,  sing  Di  Provenza  from 
Traviata — correct  me  if  I  am  wrong — until  she  felt  that 
Verdi  copied  the  bird  or  the  bird  copied  the  master,  she 
told  my  wife,  and  Nellie  was  greatly  interested." 

"Yes  I  know,"  repeated  the  musician.  "She  stopped 
here  one  day  in  passing  and  told  me  what  she  had  heard 
from  Miss  Winton.  She  asked  me  if  I  thought  there  were 
enough  in  the  subject  to  pay  for  spending  a  day  investi- 

443 


444  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

gating  it.  I  knew  very  little,  but  on  the  chance  that  she 
would  have  a  more  profitable  time  in  the  woods  than  in 
society,  I  strongly  urged  her  to  go.  She  heard  enough  to 
convince  her,  for  shortly  after  leaving  for  her  usual  sum- 
mer trip  she  wrote  me  twice  concerning  it." 

"You  mean  she  wrote  you  about  studying  bird  music?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  Professor,  "the  first  letter,  if  I  remem- 
ber, came  from  Boston,  where  she  found  much  progress 
had  been  made;  there  she  heard  of  a  man  who  had  gone  into 
the  subject  more  deeply  than  any  one  ever  before  had  in- 
vestigated, and  written  a  book.  Her  second  letter  was 
from  the  country  near  Boston,  where  she  had  gone  to  study 
under  his  direction.  I  have  thought  about  taking  it  up 
myself  at  odd  times  this  spring." 

"That  is  why  I  am  here,"  said  Mr.  Minturn.  "I  want 
you  to  begin  at  once,  and  go  as  far  as  you  are  able,  taking 
Malcolm  with  you.  The  boys  have  been  spending  much 
of  their  time  in  the  country  lately,  hiding  in  blinds,  select- 
ing a  bird  and  practising  its  notes  until  they  copy  them  so 
perfectly  they  induce  it  to  answer.  They  are  proud  as 
Pompey  when  they  succeed;  and  it  teaches  them  to  recog- 
nize the  birds.  I  believe  this  is  setting  their  feet  in  the 
right  way.  But  Malcolm  has  gone  so  fast  and  so  far,  that 
he  may  be  reproducing  some  of  the  most  wonderful  of  the 
songs,  for  all  I  know,  for  the  birds  come  peering,  calling, 
searching,  even  to  the  very  branch  which  conceals  him. 
Isn't  it  enough  for  a  beginning?" 

"Certainly,"  said  the  musician. 

"He's  been  badly  spoiled  by  women  servants,"  said  Mr. 
Minturn,  "but  the  men  are  taking  that  out  of  him  as  fast 


MALCOLM  AND  THE  HERMIT  THRUSH  445 

as  it  can  be  eliminated.  I  believe  he  is  interested  enough 
to  work.  I  think  his  mother  will  be  delighted  on  her  re- 
turn to  find  him  working  at  what  she  so  enjoys.  Does  the 
proposition  interest  you?" 

"Deeply!"  cried  the  Professor.  "Matters  musical  are 
extremely  dull  here  now,  and  I  can't  make  my  usual  trip 
abroad  on  account  of  the  war;  I  should  be  delighted  to  take 
up  this  new  subject,  which  I  could  make  serve  me  in  many 
ways  with  my  advanced  Conservatory  pupils." 

"May  I  make  a  suggestion?"  asked  Mr.  Minturn. 

"Most  assuredly,"  exclaimed  the  Professor. 

"You  noticed  I  began  by  admitting  I  didn't  know  a 
thing  about  it,  so  I'll  not  be  at  all  offended  if  you  indorse 
the  statement.  My  boys  are  large,  and  old  for  the  be- 
ginning they  must  make.  I  have  to  go  carefully  to  find 
what  they  care  for  and  will  work  at;  so  that  I  get  them 
started  without  making  them  feel  confined  and  forced,  and 
so  conceive  a  dislike  for  the  study  to  which  I  think  them 
best  adapted.  Would  you  find  the  idea  of  going  to  the 
country,  putting  a  tuned  violin  in  the  hands  of  the  lad,  and 
letting  him  search  for  the  notes  he  hears,  and  then  playing 
the  composers'  selections  to  him,  and  giving  his  ear  a 
chance,  at  all  feasible?" 

"It's  a  reversal,  but  he  could  try  it." 

"Very  well,  then,"  said  Mr.  Minturn  rising.  "All  I 
stipulate  is  that  you  allow  the  other  boys  and  the  tutor  to 
go  along  and  assimilate  what  they  can,  and  that  when 
you're  not  occupied  with  Malcolm,  their  tutor  shall  have 
a  chance  to  work  in  what  he  can  in  the  way  of  spelling* 
numbers,  and  nature  study.  Is  it  a  bargain?" 


446  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"A  most  delightful  one  on  my  part,  Mr.  Minturn/' 
said  Mr.  Dovesky.  "When  shall  I  begin?" 

"Whenever  you  have  selected  the  instrument  you  want 
the  boy  to  have,  call  Mr.  Tower  at  my  residence  and  ar- 
range with  him- to  come  for  you,"  said  Mr.  Minturn.  "  You 
can't  start  too  soon  to  suit  the  boy  or  me." 

"Very  well  then,  I'll  make  my  plans  and  call  the  first 
'thing  in  the  morning,"  said  the  Professor. 

James  Minturn  went  home  and  told  what  he  had  done. 

"Won't  that  be  great,  Malcolm?"  cried  James  Jr. 
""Maybe  you  can  do  the  music  so  well  you  can  be  a  bird- 
man  and  stand  upon  a  stage  before  a  thousand  people  and 
make  all  of  them  think  you're  a  bird." 

"I  believe  I'd  like  to  do  it,"  said  Malcolm.  "If  I  find 
out  the  people  who  make  music  have  gone  and  copied  in 
what  the  birds  sing,  and  haven't  told  they  did  it,  I'll  tell  on 
them.  It's  no  fair  way,  'cause  of  course  the  birds  sang 
their  songs  before  men,  didn't  they  father?" 

"I  think  so,  but  I  can't  prove  it,"  said  Mr.  Minturn. 

"Can  you  prove  it,  Mr.  Tower?"  asked  Malcolm. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Tower,  "science  proves  that  the  water 
forms  developed  first.  Crickets  were  singing  before  the 
birds,  and  both  before  man  appeared." 

""Then  that's  what  I  think,"  said  Malcolm. 

"When  are  they  to  begin,  James?"  asked  Mrs.  Winslow. 

"Mr.  Dovesky  is  to  call  Mr.  Tower  in  the  morning  and 
•-tell  him  what  arrangements  he  has  been  able  to  make," 
answered  Mr.  Minturn.  "Malcolm,  you  are  old  enough 
to  recognize  that  he  is  a  great  man,  and  it  is  a  big  thing  for 
him  to  leave  his  Conservatory  and  his  work,  and  go  to  the 


MALCOLM  AND  THE  HERMIT  THRUSH  447 

woods  to  help  teach  one  small  boy  what  the  birds  say. 
You'll  be  very  polite  and  obey  him  instantly,  will  you  not  ?"" 

"Do  I  have  to  mind  him  just  like  he  was  Mr.  Tower?** 

"I  don't  think  you  are  obeying  Mr.  Tower  because  you 
must,"  said  Aunt  Margaret.  "Seems  to  me  I  saw  you 
with  your  arms  around  his  neck  last  night,  and  I  think  I 
heard  you  tell  him  that  you'd  give  him  all  your  money, 
except  for  your  violin,  if  he  wouldn't  go  away  this  winter. 
Honestly,  Malcolm,  do  you  obey  Mr.  Tower  because  you 
feel  forced  to?" 

"No!"  cried  Malcolm.  "We  have  dandy  times!  And 
we  are  learning  a  lot  too!  I  wonder  if  Mr.  Dovesky  will 
join  our  campfire?' 

"Very  probably  he'll  be  eager  to,"  said  Mrs.  Winslow, 
"and  more  than  likely  you'll  obey  him,  just  as  you  do 
father  and  Mr.  Tower,  because  you  love  to." 

"Father,  are  William  and  I  going  to  study  the  birds?" 
asked  James. 

"If  you  like,"  said  Mr.  Minturn.  "It  would  please  me 
greatly  if  each  of  you  would  try  hard  to  understand  what 
Mr.  Dovesky  teaches  Malcolm,  and  to  learn  all  of  it  you 
can,  and  to  produce  creditable  bird  calls  if  possible;  and 
of  course  these  days  you're  not  really  educated  unless  you 
know  the  birds,  flowers,  and  animals  around  you.  It  is 
now  a  component  and  delightful  part  of  life." 

"Gee,  it's  a  pity  mother  isn't  here,"  said  Malcolm.  "I 
bet  she  knows  more  about  it  than  Mr.  Dovesky." 

"  I  bet  she  does,  too,"  agreed  James.  "  But  she  wouldn't 
go  where  we  do.  There  isn't  a  party  there,  and  if  a  mos- 
quito bit  her  she'd  have  a  fit." 


448  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Aw!     She  would  if  she  wanted  to!"  insisted  Malcolm. 

"Well  she  wouldn't  want  to!"  said  James. 

"Well  she  might,  smarty,"  said  Malcolm.  "She  did 
once!  I  saw  the  boots  and  skirt  she  was  going  to  wear. 
Don't  you  wish  she  liked  the  things  we  do  better  than 
parties,  father?" 

"Yes,  I  wish  she  did,"  said  Mr.  Minturn.  "Maybe 
some  day  she  will." 

"If  she'd  hear  me  call  the  quail  and  the  whip-poor-will, 
she'd  like  it,"  said  Malcolm. 

"She  wouldn't  like  it  well  enough  to  stay  away  from  a 
party  to  go  with  you  to  hear  it,"  said  James. 

"She  might!"  persisted  Malcolm.  "She  didn't  know 
about  this  when  she  went  to  the  parties.  When  she  comes 
back  I'm  going  to  tell  her;  and  I'm  going  to  take  her  to 
hear  me,  and  I'll  show  her  the  flowers  and  my  fish-pond, 
and  yours  and  father's.  Wouldn't  it  be  fun  if  she'd  wear 
the  boots  again,  and  make  a  fish-pond  too?" 

"Yes,  she'd  wear  boots!"  scoffed  James. 

"Well  she  would  if  she  wanted  to,"  reiterated  Malcolm. 
"She  wore  them  when  she  wanted  to  hear  the  birds;  if  she 
did  once,  she  would  again,  if  she  pleased." 

"Well  she  wouldn't  please,"  laughed  James. 

"Well  she  might"  said  Malcolm  stubbornly.  "Mightn't 
she,  father?" 

"If  she  went  once,  I  see  no  reason  why  she  shouldn't 
again,"  said  Mr.  Minturn. 

"Course  she'll  go  again!"  triumphed  Malcolm.  "I'll 
make  her,  when  she  comes." 

"Yes  'when'  she  comes!"  jeered  James.     "She  won't 


MALCOLM  AND  THE  HERMIT  THRUSH  449 

ever  live  here!  She  wouldn't  think  this  was  good  enough 
for  Lucette  and  Gretchen!  And  she  gave  away  our  house 
for  the  sick  children,  and  she  hates  it  at  grandmother's  1 
Bet  she  doesn't  ever  come  again!" 

"Bet  she  does!"  said  Malcolm  instantly. 

"Would  you  like  to  have  mother  come  here,  Malcolm?" 
interrupted  Mr.  Minturn  quietly. 

"Why "  he  said  and  shifted  his  questioning  gaze  to- 
ward Aunt  Margaret,  "why — why — well,  I'll  tell  you, 
father:  if  she  would  wear  boots  and  go  see  the  birds  and 

the  flowers — if  she  would  do  as  we  do Sometimes  in 

the  night  I  wake  up  and  think  how  pretty  she  is,  and  I  just 
get  hungry  to  see  her — but  of  course  it  would  only  kick  up 
a  row  for  her  to  come  here — of  course  she  better  stay 
away — but  father,  if  she  would  come,  and  if  she  would  wear 
the  boots — and  if  she'd  let  old  slapping  Lucette  go,  and  live 
as  we  do,  father,  wouldn't  that  be  great  ?  " 

"Yes  I  think  it  would,"  said  James  Minturn  con- 
clusively, as  he  excused  himself  and  arose  from  the 
table. 

"James,"  said  Malcolm,  when  they  went  to  their 
schoolroom,  "if  Mr.  Dovesky  goes  to  shutting  us  up  in  the 
study  and  won't  let  us  play  while  we  learn,  what  will  we  do 
to  him  to  make  him  sick  of  his  job?" 

"  Oh  things  would  turn  up ! "  replied  James.  "  But  Mal- 
colm, wouldn't  you  kind  o'  hate  to  have  him  see  you  be 
mean?" 

"Well  father  saw  us  be  mean,"  said  Malcolm. 

"Yes,  but  what  would  you  give  if  he  hadn't  ?" 

"I'm  not  proud  of  it,"  replied  Malcolm. 


450  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Yes  and  that's  just  it !"  cried  James.  "  That's  just  what 
comes  of  living  here.  All  of  them  are  so  polite,  and  if  you 
are  halfway  decent  they  are  so  good  to  you,  and  they  help 
you  to  do  things  that  will  make  you  into  a  man  who  needn't 
be  ashamed  of  himself — that's  just  it!  How  would  you 
like  to  go  back  and  be  so  rough  and  so  mean  nobody  at  all 
would  care  for  us?" 

"Father  wouldn't  let  us,  would  he?"  asked  Malcolm. 

"He  wouldn't  if  he  could  help  it,"  said  James.  "He 
•didn't  used  to  seem  as  if  he  could  help  it.  Don't  you  re- 
member he  would  tell  us  it  was  not  the  right  way,  and  try 
to  have  us  be  decent,  and  Lucette  would  tell  mother,  and 
mother  would  fire  him?  I  wonder  how  she  could!  And 
if  she  could  then,  why  doesn't  she  now?  I  guess  he 
•doesn't  want  to  stop  her  party  to  bother  with  us;  but  if  she 
ever  comes  and  wants  to  take  us  back  like  we  were,  Mal- 
colm, I'm  not  going.  I  like  what  we  got  now.  Mother  al- 
ways said  we  were  to  be  gentlemen;  but  we  never  could  be 
that  way.  Father  and  Mr.  Tower  and  Mr.  Dovesky  are 
gentlemen,  just  as  kind,  and  easy,  and  fine.  When  we 
were  mean  as  could  be,  and  acted  like  fight-cats,  you  re- 
member father  and  Mr.  Tower  only  held  us;  they  didn't  get 
mad  and  beat  us.  If  mother  comes  you  may  go  with  her  if 
you  want  to." 

"I  wish  she'd  come  with  us!"  said  Malcolm. 

*'Not  mother!     We  ain't  her  kind  of  a  party." 

"I  know  it,"  admitted  Malcolm  slowly.  "Sometimes  L 
want  her  just  awful.  I  wonder  why?" 

"I  guess  it's  'cause  a  boy  is  born  wanting  his  mother.  I 
want  her  myself  a  lot  of  times,  but  I  wouldn't  go  with  her  if 


MALCOLM  AND  THE  HERMIT  THRUSH  45r 

she'd  come  to-day,  so  I  don't  know  why  I  want  her,  but  I 
do  sometimes." 

"I  didn't  know  you  did,"  said  Malcolm. 

"  Well  I  do,"  said  James,  "  but  I  ain't  ever  going.  Often 
I  think  the  queerest  things!" 

"What  queer  things  do  you  think,  James?" 

"Why  like  this,"  said  James.  "That  it  ain't  safe  to  let 
children  be  jerked,  and  their  heads  knocked.  You  know 
what  Lucette  did  to  Elizabeth?  I  think  she  hit  her  head 
too  hard.  She  gave  me  more  cake,  and  said  I  was  a  good 
boy  for  saying  the  ice  made  her  sick,  but  all  the  time  I 
thought  it  was  hitting  her  head.  I  wouldn't  be  the  boy  who 
said  that  again,  if  I  had  to  be  shot  for  not  saying  it,  like  the 
French  boy  was  about  the  soldiers.  'Member  that  day?'* 

"Yes  I  do,"  said  Malcolm  shortly. 

"You  know  you  coaxed  her  off  the  bench,  and  I  pushed 
her  in!"  said  James,  slowly. 

"Yes,"  said  Malcolm.  "And'  I  kicked  her.  And  I 
wasn't  mad  at  her  a  bit.  I  wonder  why  I  did  it!" 

"I  guess  you  did  it  because  you  were  more  of  an  animal 
than  a  decent  boy,  same  as  I  pushed  her,"  said  James,  "I 
guess  I  won't  ever  forget  that  I  pushed  her." 

"Pushing  her  wasn't  as  bad  as  what  I  did,"  said  Mal- 
colm. "I  guess  ain't  either  one  of  us  going  to  feel  right 
about  Elizabeth  again,  long  as  we  live." 

"Malcolm,  we  can't  get  her  back,"  said  James,  "but  if 
any  way  happens  that  we  ever  get  another  little  sister, 
we'll  take  care  of  her  like  father  wanted  to" 

"You  bet  we  will!"  said  Malcolm. 

Next   morning  the   boys   had  the   car   ready.    They 


452  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

packed  in  all  their  bird  books,  their  flower  records,  and 
botanies,  and  were  eagerly  waiting  when  the  call  from  Mr. 
Dovesky  came.  At  once  they  drove  to  his  home  for  him, 
and  from  there  to  a  music  store  where  a  violin  was  selected 
for  Malcolm. 

Mr.  Dovesky  was  so  big,  the  boys  stood  in  awe  of  his 
size.  He  was  so  clean,  no  boy  would  want  him  to  see  him 
dirty.  He  was  so  handsome,  it  was  good  to  watch  his  face, 
because  you  had  to  like  him  when  he  smiled.  He  was  so 
polite,  that  you  never  for  a  minute  forgot  that  soon  you 
were  going  to  be  a  man,  and  if  you  could  be  the  man  you 
wished,  you  would  be  exactly  like  him.  Both  boys  were 
very  shy  of  him  and  very  much  afraid  his  entrance  into 
their  party  would  spoil  their  fun. 

When  they  left  the  music  store,  Malcolm  carefully  car- 
rying his  new  violin,  Mr.  Dovesky  his,  and  a  roll  of  music, 
the  boys  with  anxious  hearts  awaited  developments. 

"Now  Mr.  Tower,"  said  Mr.  Dovesky,  "suppose  we 
drive  wherever  you  are  likely  to  find  the  birds  you  have 
been  practising  on,  and  for  a  start  let  me  hear  just  what  you 
have  done  and  can  do,  and  then  I  can  plan  better  to  work 
in  with  you." 

When  they  reached  the  brook  they  stopped  to  show  the 
fish  pools  and  then  entered  an  old  orchard,  long  abandoned 
for  fruit  growing  and  so  worm  infested  as  to  make  it  a  bird 
Paradise.  Cuckoos,  jays,  robins,  bluebirds,  thrashers, 
orioles,  sparrows,  and  vireos,  nested  there,  singing  on  wing, 
among  the  trees,  on  the  fences,  and  from  bushes  in  the 
corners. 

Malcolm  and  Mr.  Dovesky  secreted  themselves  on  a 


MALCOLM  AND  THE  HERMIT  THRUSH  453 

board  laid  across  the  rails  of  an  alder-filled  fence  corner, 
then  the  boy  began  pointing  out  the  birds  he  knew  and 
giving  his  repetition  of  their  calls,  cries,  bits  of  song,  some- 
times whistled,  sometimes  half  spoken,  half  whistled,  any 
vocal  rendition  that  would  produce  the  bird  tones.  He 
had  practised  carefully,  he  was  slightly  excited,  and  sooner 
than  usual  he  received  replies.  Little  feathered  folk  came 
peeping,  peering,  calling,  and  beyond  question  answering 
Malcolm's  notes.  In  an  hour  Mr.  Dovesky  was  holding 
his  breath  with  interest,  suggesting  corrections,  trying 
notes  himself,  and  when  he  felt  he  had  whistled  accurately 
and  heard  a  bird  reply,  he  was  as  proud  as  the  boy. 

Then  a  thing  happened  that  none  of  them  had  men- 
tioned, because  they  were  not  sure  enough  that  it  would. 
A  brown  thrush,  catching  the  unusual  atmosphere  of  the 
orchard  that  morning,  selected  the  tallest  twig  of  an  apple 
tree  and  showed  that  orchard  what  real  music  was. 

The  thrush  preened,  flirted  his  feathers,  opened  his  beak 
widely  and  sang  his  first  liquid  notes.  "Starts  on  C," 
commented  Mr.  Dovesky  softly. 

"Three  times,  and  does  it  over,  to  show  us  we  needn't 
think  it  was  an  accident  and  he  can't  do  it  as  often  as  he 
pleases,"  whispered  Malcolm.  Mr.  Dovesky  glanced  at 
the  boy  and  nodded. 

"There  he  goes  from  C  to  E,"  he  commented  an  instant 
later,  "  repeats  that— C  again,  falls  to  B,  up  to  G,  repeats 
that — I  wish  he  would  wait  till  I  get  my  pencil." 

"I  can  give  it  to  you,"  said  Malcolm.  "He  does  each 
strain  over  as  soon  as  he  sings  it.  I  know  his  song!' 

On  the  back  of  an  envelope,  Mr.  Dovesky  was  sketching 


454  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

a  staff  of  music  in  natural  key,  setting  off  measures  and 
filling  in  notes.  As  the  bird  confused  him  with  repetitions 
or  trills  on  E  or  C  so  high  he  had  to  watch  sharply  to  catch 
just  what  it  was,  his  fingers  trembled  when  he  added  lines 
to  the  staff"  for  the  highest  notes.  For  fifteen  minutes  the 
blessed  bird  sang,  and  at  each  rendition  of  its  full  strain,  it 
seemed  to  grow  more  intoxicated  with  its  own  perform- 
ance. Finishing  the  last  notes  perfectly,  the  bird  gave  a 
hop,  glanced  around  as  if  he  were  saying:  "Now  any  one 
who  thinks  he  can  surpass  that,  has  my  permission  to  try." 
From  a  bush  a  small  gray  bird  meouwed  in  derision  and  ac- 
cepted the  challenge.  The  watchers  could  not  see  him, 
but  he  came  so  close  singing  the  same  song  that  he  de- 
ceived Mr.  Dovesky,  for  he  said:  "He's  going  to  do  it  over 
from  the  bushes  now!" 

"Listen!"  cautioned  Malcolm.  "Don't  you  hear  the 
difference?  He  starts  the  same,  but  he  runs  higher,  he 
drops  lower,  and  does  it  quicker,  and  I  think  the  notes 
clearer  and  sweeter  when  the  little  gray  fellow  sings  them, 
and  you  should  see  his  nest!  Do  you  like  him  better?" 

"Humph!"  said  Mr.  Dovesky.  "Why  I  was  so  en- 
tranced with  the  first  performance  I  didn't  suppose  any- 
thing could  be  better.  I  must  have  time  to  learn  both 
songs,  and  analyze  and  compare." 

"I  can't  do  gray's  yet,"  said  Malcolm.  "It's  so  fine, 
*nd  cut  up,  with  going  up  and  down  on  the  jump,  but  I  got 
*:he  start  of  it,  and  the  part  that  goes  this  way " 

"This  is  my  work!"  cried  Mr.  Dovesky.  "Is  there  any 
chance  the  apple-tree  bird  will  repeat  his  performance?" 

"Mostly  he  doesn't  till  evening,"  answered  Malcolm. 


MALCOLM  AND  THE  HERMIT  THRUSH  455 

"He's  pretty  sure  to  again  to-morrow  morning,  but  old 
cat  of  the  bushes,  he  sings  any  time  it  suits  him  all  day. 
His  nest  isn't  where  he  sings,  and  he  doesn't  ever  perch  up 
so  high  and  make  such  a  fuss  about  it,  but  I  think  mother 
would  like  his  notes  best." 

"First,"  said  Mr.  Dovesky,  "I'll  take  down  what  Mr. 
Brown  Bird  sang,  and  learn  it.  I'd  call  that  a  good  start, 
and  when  I  get  his  song  so  I  can  whistle,  and  play  it  on 
the  instruments,  then  we'll  go  at  Mr.  Cat's  song,  and 
see  if  I  can  learn  why,  and  in  what  way  you  think  it 
finer." 

"Oh,  it  goes  from  high  to  low  quicker,  more  notes  in  a 
bunch,  and  sweeter  tones  trilling,"  explained  Malcolm. 
Mr.  Dovesky  laughed,  saying  in  a  question  of  music  that 
would  constitute  quite  a  difference.  They  went  to  the 
brook  and  lunched  and  made  easy  records  of  syllabic  calls 
that  could  be  rendered  in  words  and  by  whistling.  Then 
all  of  them  gathered  around  Mr.  Dovesky  while  he  drew 
lines,  crossed  them  with  bands  and  explained  the  staff,  and 
different  time,  and  signatures,  and  together  they  had  their 
first  music  lesson. 

Malcolm  whistled  the  thrush  song  while  Mr.  Dovesky 
copied  the  notes,  tuned  the  violin,  and  showed  the  boy  how 
the  strings  corresponded  to  the  lines  he  had  made,  where 
the  notes  lay  on  them,  and  how  to  draw  them  out  with  the 
bow.  He  could  not  explain  fast  enough  to  satisfy  the 
eager  lad.  After  Mr.  Dovesky  had  gone  as  far  as  he 
thought  wise,  and  left  off  with  music,  he  wandered  with 
Mr.  Tower  hunting  flowers  in  which  he  seemed  almost  as 
much  interested  as  the  music.  Malcolm  clung  to  the 


456  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

violin,  and  over  and  over  ran  the  natural  scale  he  had  been 
taught;  then  slowly,  softly,  with  wavering  awkward  bow, 
he  began  whistling  plain  easy  calls,  and  hunting  up  and 
down  the  strings  for  them. 

That  day  was  the  beginning.  Others  did  not  dawn  fast 
enough  to  suit  Malcolm,  while  the  ease  with  which  he  mas- 
tered the  songs  of  the  orchard  and  reproduced  them,  in  a 
few  days  set  him  begging  to  be  taken  to  the  swamp  to  hear 
the  bird  that  sang  "from  the  book."  Leslie  Winton  was 
added  to  the  party  that  day.  Malcolm  came  from  the 
land  of  the  tamarack  obsessed.  James,  William,  and  the 
tutor  did  not  care  for  that  location,  but  Malcolm  and  Mr. 
Dovesky  wanted  to  erect  a  tent  and  take  provisions  and 
their  instruments  and  live  among  the  dim  coolness,  where 
miracles  of  song  burst  on  the  air  at  any  moment.  They 
heard  and  identified  the  veery.  They  went  on  their  knees 
at  their  first  experience  with  the  clear,  bell-toned  notes  of 
the  wood  thrush.  With  a  little  practice  Malcolm  could 
reproduce  the  "song  from  the  book."  He  talked  of  it  in- 
cessantly, sang  and  whistled  it,  making  patent  to  every 
member  of  the  family  that  what  was  in  his  heart  was  fully 
as  much  a  desire  to  do  the  notes  so  literally  that  he  would 
win  the  commendation  of  his  mother,  as  to  obtain  an  an- 
swer from  an  unsuspecting  bird;  for  that  was  the  sport. 
The  big  thing  for  which  to  strive!  They  worked  to  obtain 
a  record  so  accurately,  to  reproduce  it  so  perfectly  that  the 
bird  making  it  would  answer  and  come  at  their  call.  The 
day  Malcolm,  hidden  in  the  tamarack  swamp,  coaxed  the 
sparrow,  now  flitting  widely  in  feeding  its  young,  he  knew 
not  how  far,  to  the  bush  sheltering  him,  and  with  its  own 


MALCOLM  AND  THE  HERMIT  THRUSH  457 

notes  set  it  singing  against  him  as  a  rival,  the  boy  was  no 
happier  than  Mr.  Dovesky. 

Mr.  Minturn  could  not  quite  agree  to  the  camp  at  the 
swamp,  but  he  provided  a  car  and  a  driver  and  allowed 
them  to  go  each  morning  and  often  to  remain  late  at  night 
to  practise  owl  and  nighthawk  calls,  veery  notes,  chat  cries, 
and  the  unsurpassed  melody  of  the  evening  vespers  of  the 
Hermit  bird.  This  song  once  heard,  comprehended, 
copied,  and  reproduced,  the  musician  and  the  boy  with 
music  in  his  heart,  brain,  and  finger  tips,  clung  to  each 
other  and  suffered  the  exquisite  pain  of  the  artist  experi- 
encing joy  so  poignant  it  hurt.  After  a  mastery  of  those 
notes  as  to  time,  tone,  and  grouping,  came  the  task  of  per- 
fecting them  so  that  the  bird  would  reply. 

Hours  they  practised  until  far  in  the  night,  and  when 
Malcolm  felt  he  really  had  located  a  bird,  gained  its  atten- 
tion, and  set  it  singing  against  him,  he  was  wild,  and  noth- 
ing would  satisfy  him  but  that  his  father  should  go  to  the 
swamp  with  him,  and  well  hidden,  hear  and  see  that  he 
called  the  bird.  Gladly  Mr.  Minturn  assented.  Whether 
the  boy  succeeded  in  this  was  a  matter  of  great  importance 
to  his  father,  but  it  was  not  paramount.  The  thing  that 
concerned  him  most  was  that  Malcolm's  interest  in  what 
he  was  doing,  his  joy  in  the  study  he  was  making,  had  bred 
a  deep  regard  in  his  heart  for  his  instructor.  The  boy 
loved  the  man  intensely  in  a  few  days,  and  immediately 
began  studying  with  him,  watching  him,  copying  him.  He 
moved  with  swift  alertness,  spoke  with  care  to  select  the 
best  word,  and  was  fast  becoming  punctiliously  polite. 

On  their  return  Mr.  Dovesky  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of 


453  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

lunching  with  the  Minturns.  The  things  of  which  he  and 
the  boy  reminded  each  other,  the  notes  they  reproduced  by 
whistling,  calling,  or  a  combination,  the  execution  of  these 
on  the  violin,  the  references  Mr.  Dovesky  made  to  certain 
bird  songs  which  recalled  to  his  mind  passages  in  operas,  in 
secular  and  sacred  productions,  his  rendition  of  the  wild 
music,  and  then  the  human  notes,  his  comparison  of  the 
two,  and  his  remarks  on  different  composers,  his  mastery 
of  the  violin,  and  his  ability  to  play  long  passages  preced- 
ing and  following  tl.e  parts  taken  from  the  birds,  were  in- 
tensely absorbing  and  educative  to  all  of  them.  Then  Mr. 
Tower  would  add  the  description  and  history  of  each  bird 
in  question.  Mr.  Minturn  started  the  boys'  library  with 
interesting  works  on  ornithology,  everything  that  had  been 
written  concerning  strains  in  bird  and  human  music;  the 
lives  and  characters  of  the  musicians  in  whose  work  the 
bird  passages  appeared,  or  who  used  melodies  so  like  the 
birds  it  made  the  fact  apparent  the  feathered  folk  had  in- 
spired them.  This  led  to  minute  examination  of  the  lives 
of  the  composers,  in  an  effort  to  discover  which  of  them 
were  country  born  and  had  worked  in  haunts  where  birds 
might  be  heard.  The  differing  branches  of  information 
opened  up  seemed  endless.  The  change  this  work  made 
in  the  boys  appeared  to  James  Minturn  and  his  sister  as 
something  marvellous.  That  the  work  was  also  making  a 
change  in  the  heart  of  the  man  himself,  was  an  equal  mir- 
acle he  did  not  realize. 

As  each  day  new  avenues  opened,  he  began  to  under- 
stand dimly  how  much  it  would  have  meant  to  him  in  his 
relations  with  his  wife,  if  he  had  begun  long  ago  under  her 


MALCOLM  AND  THE  HERMIT  THRUSH  459 

tuition  and  learned,  at  least  enough  to  appreciate  the  one 
thing  outside  society,  which  she  found  absorbing.  He 
began  to  see  that  if  he  had  listened,  and  tried,  and  had  in- 
duced her  to  repeat  to  him  parts  of  the  great  composers  she 
so  loved,  on  her  instruments,  when  they  reached  home,  he 
soon  could  have  come  to  recognize  them,  and  so  an  evening 
at  the  opera  with  her  would  have  meant  pleasure  to  him- 
self instead  of  stolid  endurance.  Ultimately  it  might  have 
meant  an  effective  wedge  with  which  to  pry  against  the 
waste  of  time,  strength  and  money  on  the  sheer  amusement 
of  herself  in  society.  Once  he  started  searching  for  them, 
he  found  many  ways  in  which  he  might  have  made  his  life 
with  his  wife  different,  if  indeed  he  had  not  had  it  in  his 
power  to  effect  a  complete  change  by  having  been  firm  in 
the  beginning. 

Of  this  one  thing  he  was  sure  to  certainty:  that  if  he  had 
been  able  to  introduce  any  such  element  of  interest  into 
his  wife's  residence  as  he  had,  through  merely  saying  the 
word,  in  his  own,  it  surely  would  have  made  some  of  the 
big  difference  then  it  was  making  now.  He  found  him- 
self brooding,  yearning  over  his  sons,  and  his  feeling  for 
them  broadening  and  deepening.  As  he  daily  saw  James 
seeking  more  and  more  to  be  with  him,  to  understand  what 
he  was  doing,  his  pride  in  being  able  to  feel  that  he  had 
helped  if  it  were  no  more  than  to  sit  in  court  and  hand  a 
marked  book  at  the  right  moment,  he  began  to  make  a  com- 
rade of,  and  to  develop  a  feeling  of  dependence  on,  the  boy. 

He  watched  Malcolm  with  his  quicker  intellect,  his 
daily  evidence  of  temperament,  his  rapidly  developing 
musical  ability,  and  felt  the  tingle  of  pride  in  his  lithe 


460  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

ruddy  beauty,  so  like  his  mother,  and  his  talent,  so  like 
hers.  The  boy,  under  the  interest  of  the  music,  and  with 
the  progress  he  was  making  in  doing  a  new,  unusual 
thing,  soon  began  to  develop  her  mannerisms;  when  he  was 
most  polite,  her  charm  was  apparent;  when  he  was 
offended,  her  hauteur  enveloped  him.  When  he  was 
pleased  and  happy,  her  delicate  tinge  of  rose  flushed  his 
transparent  cheek,  while  the  lights  on  his  red-brown  hair 
glinted  with  her  colour.  He  shut  himself  in  his  room  and 
worked  with  his  violin  until  time  to  start  to  the  tamarack 
swamp.  When  Mr.  Minturn  promptly  appeared  with  the 
car,  he  found  Malcolm  had  borrowed  Mr.  Dovesky's 
khaki  suit  and  waders  for  him,  and  on  the  advice  of  the  boy 
he  wore  the  stiff  coarse  clothing,  which  the  tamaracks 
would  not  tear,  the  mosquitoes  could  not  bite  through,  and 
muck  and  water  would  not  easily  penetrate — there  were 
many  reasons. 

When  they  reached  the  swamp  both  of  them  put  on 
boots  and  then,  following  his  son  and  doing  exactly  what 
he  was  told,  James  Minturn  forgot  law,  politics,  and  busi- 
ness. With  anxious  heart  he  prayed  that  the  bird  the  lad 
wished  to  sing  would  evolve  its  sweetest  notes,  and  that 
his  high  hope  of  reproducing  the  music  perfectly  enough  to 
induce  the  singer  to  answer  would  be  fulfilled.  Malcolm 
advanced  softly,  slipping  under  branches,  around  bushes, 
over  deep  moss  beds  that  sank  in  an  ooze  of  water  at  the 
pressure  of  a  step  and  sprung  back  on  release.  Imitating 
every  caution,  stepping  in  the  boy's  tracks,  and  keeping 
a  few  rods  behind,  followed  his  father.  He  had  rolled  his 
sleeves  to  the  elbow,  left  his  shirt  open  at  the  throat,  while 


MALCOLM  AND  THE  HERMIT  THRUSH  461 

for  weeks  the  joy  of  wind  and  weather  on  his  bared  head 
had  been  his,  so  that  as  he  silently  followed  his  son  he 
made  an  impressive  figure.  At  a  certain  point  Malcolm 
stopped,  motioning  his  father  to  come  to  him. 

"Now  this  is  as  far  as  I've  gone  yet,"  he  whispered. 
"You  stay  here,  and  we'll  wait  till  the  music  begins.  If  I 
can  do  it  as  well  as  I  have  for  three  nights,  and  get  an  an- 
swer, I'm  going  to  try  to  call  the  Hermit  bird  I  sing  with. 
If  a  hen  answers,  I'll  do  the  male  notes,  and  try  to  coax 
her  where  you  can  see.  If  a  male  sings,  I'll  do  his  song 
once  or  twice  to  show  you  how  close  I  can  come,  and  then 
I'll  do  the  hen's  call  note,  and  see  if  I  can  coax  him  out  for 
you.  If  I  creep  ahead,  you  keep  covered  as  much  as  you 
can  and  follow;  but  stay  as  far  as  that  big  tree  behind  me, 
and  don't  for  your  life  move  or  make  a  noise  when  I'm  still. 
I'll  go  far  ahead  as  I  want  to  be,  to  start  on.  Now  don't 
forget  to  be  quiet,  and  listen  hard!" 

"I  won't  forget!"  said  James  Minturn. 

"Oh  but  it  will  be  awful  if  one  doesn't  sing  to-night!" 

"Not  at  all!"  answered  Mr.  Minturn.  "This  is  a  new 
experience  for  me;  I'll  get  the  benefit  of  a  sight  of  the 
swamp  that  will  pay  for  the  trip,  if  I  don't  even  see  a  bird." 

By  the  boy's  sigh  of  relief  the  father  knew  he  had  quieted 
his  anxiety.  Malcolm  went  softly  ahead  a  few  yards,  and 
stopped,  sheltering  himself  in  a  clump  of  willow  and  button 
bushes.  His  father  made  himself  as  inconspicuous  as  he 
could  and  waited.  He  studied  the  trunks  of  the  big  scaly 
trees,  the  intermingled  branches  covered  with  tufts  of  tiny 
spines,  and  here  and  there  the  green  cones  nestling  up- 
right. The  cool  water  rising  around  hrs  feet  called  his  at- 


462  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

tention  to  the  deep  moss  bed,  silvery  green  in  the  evening 
light.  Here  and  there  on  moss  mounds  at  the  tree  bases 
he  could  see  the  broad  leaves  and  ripening  pods  that  he 
thought  must  be  moccasins  seeding.  Then  his  eye  sought 
the  crouching  boy,  and  he  again  prayed  that  he  would  not 
be  disappointed;  with  his  prayer  came  the  answer.  A 
sweep  of  wings  overhead,  a  brown  flash  through  the  tama- 
jacks,  and  then  a  burst  of  slow,  sweet  notes,  then  silence- 
James  Minturn  leaned  forward,  his  eyes  on  his  son,  his 
precious  little  lad.  How  the  big  strong  man  hoped,  until 
it  became  the  very  essence  of  prayer,  that  he  would  be 
granted  the  pride  and  pleasure,  the  triumph,  of  success; 
for  his  ears  told  him  that  to  reproduce  the  notes  he  had 
just  heard  would  undoubtedly  be  the  crowning  perform- 
ance of  bird  music;  surely  there  could  be  no  other  song- 
ster gifted  like  that!  The  bird  made  a  short  flight  and 
sang  again.  Across  the  swamp  came  a  repetition  of  his 
notes  from  another  of  his  kind,  so  the  brown  streak  moved 
in  that  direction.  At  its  next  pause  its  voice  arose  again, 
sweeter  for  the  mellowing  distance,  and  then  another  bird, 
not  so  far  away,  answered.  The  bird  replied  and  came 
winging  in  sight,  this  time  peering,  uttering  a  short  note, 
unlike  its  song;  and  not  until  it  came  searching  where  he 
could  see  it  distinctly,  did  James  Minturn  awake  to  the 
realization  that  the  last  notes  had  been  Malcolm's.  His 
heart  swelled  big  with  prideful  possession.  What  a  won- 
derful accomplishment!  What  a  fine  boy!  How  careful 
he  must  be  to  help  and  to  guide  him. 

Again  the  bird  across  the  swamp  sang  and  the  one  in 
sight  turned  in  that  direction      Then  began  a  duet  that 


MALCOLM  AND  THE  HERMIT  THRUSH  463 

was  a  marvellous  experience.  The  far  bird  called.  Mal- 
colm answered.  Soon  they  heard  a  reply.  Mr.  Minturn 
saw  the  boy  beckoning  him,  and  crept  to  his  side. 

"It's  a  female,"  whispered  Malcolm.  "I'm  going  to 
sing  the  male  notes  and  calls,  and  try  to  toll  her.  You 
follow,  but  don't  get  too  close  and  scare  her." 

The  father  could  see  the  tense  poise  of  Malcolm,  step- 
ping lightly,  avoiding  the  open,  stooping  beneath  branches, 
hiding  in  bushes,  making  his  way  onward,  at  every  com- 
plete ambush  sending  forth  those  wonderful  notes.  At 
each  repetition  it  seemed  to  the  father  that  the  song  grew 
softer,  more  pleading,  of  fuller  intonation;  and  then  his 
heart  almost  stopped,  for  he  began  to  realize  that  each  an- 
swer to  the  boy's  call  was  closer  than  the  one  before.  Mal- 
colm would  sleep  that  night  with  a  joyful  heart.  He  was 
tolling  the  bird  he  imitated;  it  was  coming  at  his  call,  of 
that  there  could  be  no  question.  His  last  notes  came  from 
a  screen  of  spreading  button  bushes  and  northern  holly. 
At  the  usual  interval  they  heard  the  reply,  but  recogniz- 
ably closer.  Malcolm  raised  his  hand  without  moving  or 
looking  back,  but  his  father  saw,  and  interpreted  the  ges- 
ture to  mean  that  the  time  had  come  for  him  to  stop.  He 
took  a  few  steps  to  conceal  himself,  for  he  was  between 
trees  when  the  signal  came,  and  paused,  already  so  elated 
he  wanted  to  shout;  he  scarcely  could  restrain  the  impulse. 
What  was  the  use  in  going  farther?  His  desire  was  to  race 
back  to  Multiopolis  at  speed  limit  to  tell  Mr.  Dovesky, 
Margaret,  and  Mr.  Tower  what  a  triumph  he  had  wit- 
nessed. He  wanted  to  talk  about  it  to  his  men  friends  and 
business  associates. 


464  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Distinctly,  through  the  slowly  darkening  green,  he 
could  see  the  boy  putting  all  his  heart  into  the  song. 
James  Minturn  watched  so  closely  he  was  not  mistaken  in 
thinking  he  could  see  the  lad's  figure  grow  tense  as  he  de- 
livered the  notes,  and  relax  when  the  answer  relieved  his 
anxiety  as  to  whether  it  would  come  again,  and  then  gather 
for  another  trial.  At  the  last  call  the  reply  came  from 
such  a  short  distance  that  Mr.  Minturn  began  intently 
watching  from  his  shelter  to  witness  the  final  triumph  of 
seeing  the  bird  Malcolm  had  called  across  the  swamp, 
come  into  view.  He  could  see  that  the  boy  was  growing 
reckless,  for  as  he  delivered  the  strain,  he  stepped  almost 
into  the  open,  watching  before  him  and  slowly  going 
ahead.  With  the  answer,  there  was  a  discernible  move- 
ment a  few  yards  away.  Mr.  Minturn  saw  the  boy  start, 
and  gazed  at  him.  With  bent  body  Malcolm  stared  before 
him,  and  then  his  father  heard  his  amazed,  awed  cry: 
"Why  mother !  Is  that  you,  mother?" 

"Malcolm!  Are  you  Malcolm?"  came  the  incredulous 
answer. 

James  Minturn  wras  stupefied.  Distinctly  he  could  see 
now.  He  did  not  recognize  the  knee  boots,  the  outing  suit 
of  coarse  green  material,  but  the  beautiful  pink  face  slowly 
paling,  the  bright  waving  hair  framing  it,  he  knew  very 
well.  Astonishment  bound  him.  Malcolm  advanced  an- 
other step,  still  half  dazed,  and  cried:  "Why,  have  I  been 
calling  you?  I  thought  it  was  the  bird  I  saw,  still  answer- 
ing!" 

"And  I  believed  you  were  the  Hermit  singing!"  she 
said. 


MALCOLM  AND  THE  HERMIT  THRUSH  465 

"But  you  fooled  the  bird,"  said  the  boy.  "Close  here  it 
answered  you." 

"And  near  me  it  called  you,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn.  "Your 
notes  were  quite  as  perfect." 

Malcolm  straightened  and  seemed  reassured. 

"Why  mother!"  he  exclaimed.  "When  did  you  study 
bird  music?  Have  you  just  come  back?" 

"I've  been  away  only  two  weeks,  Malcolm,"  she  an- 
swered, "and  if  it  hadn't  been  for  learning  the  bird  notes, 
I'd  have  returned  sooner." 

"But  where  have  you  been  ?"  cried  the  boy. 

"At  home.     I  reserved  my  suite!"  she  answered. 

"  But  home's  all  torn  up,  and  pounding  and  sick  people, 
and  you  hate  pounding  and  sick  people,"  he  reminded  her. 

"There  wasn't  so  very  much  noise,  Malcolm,"  she  said, 
"and  I've  changed  about  sickness.  You  have  to  suffer 
yourself  to  do  that.  Once  you  learn  how  dreadful  pain 
is,  you  feel  only  pity  for  those  who  endure  it.  Every  night 
when  the  nurses  are  resting,  I  change  so  no  one  knows  me, 
and  slip  into  the  rooms  of  the  suffering  little  children  who 
can't  sleep,  and  try  to  comfort  them." 

"Mother,  who  takes  care  of  you  ?"  he  questioned. 

"A  very  sensible  girl  named  Susan,"  she  answered. 

The  boy  went  a  step  closer. 

"Mother,  have  you  changed  about  anything  besides 
sickness?"  he  asked  eagerly. 

"Yes  Malcolm,"  said  his  mother.  "I've  changed  about 
every  single  thing  in  all  this  world  that  I  ever  said,  or  did, 
or  loved,  when  you  knew  me." 

"You  have?"  he  cried  in  amazement.     "Would  you 


466  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

wear  that  dress  and  come  to  the  woods  with  us  now,  and 
do  some  of  the  things  we  like?" 

"I'd  rather  come  here  with  you,  and  sing  these  bird 
notes  than  anything  else  I  ever  did,"  she  answered. 

Malcolm  advanced  another  long  stride. 

"Mother,  is  Susan  a  pounding,  beating  person  like  Lu- 
cette?"  he  asked  anxiously. 

"No,"  she  said  softly.  "Susan  likes  children.  When 
she's  not  busy  for  me,  she  goes  into  the  music  room  and 
plays  games,  and  sings  songs  to  little  sick  people." 

"Because  you  know,"  said  Malcolm,  "James  and  I  talk 
it  over  when  we  are  alone,  we  never  let  father  hear  because 
he  loved  Elizabeth  so,  and  he's  so  fine — mother  you  were 
mistaken  about  father  not  being  a  gentleman,  not  even  Mr. 
Dovesky  is  a  finer  gentleman  than  father — and  father 
loved  her  so;  but  mother,  James  and  I  saw.  We  believe  if 
it  had  been  the  cream,  it  would  have  made  us  sick  too,  and 
we're  so  ashamed  of  what  we  did;  if  we  had  another  chance, 
we'd  be  as  good  to  a  little  sister  as  father  is  to  us.  Mother, 
we  wish  we  had  her  back  so  we  could  try  again " 

Nellie  Minturn  shut  her  eyes  and  swayed  on  her  feet, 
but  presently  she  spoke  in  a  harsh,  breathless  whisper,  yet 
it  carried,  even  to  the  ears  of  the  listening  man. 

"Yes  Malcolm,  I'd  give  my  life,  oh  so  gladly  if  I  could 
bring  her  back  and  try  over " 

"You  wouldn't  have  any  person  like  Lucette  around, 
would  you  mother?"  he  questioned. 

"Not  ever  again  Malcolm,"  she  answered.  "I'd  have 
Little  Sister  back  if  it  were  possible,  but  that  can't  ever  be, 
because  when  we  lose  people  as  Elizabeth  went,  they  never 


MALCOLM  AND  THE  HERMIT  THRUSH  467 

can  come  back;  but  I'll  offer  my  life  to  come  as  near  re- 
placing her  as  possible,  and  everywhere  I've  neglected  you, 
and  James,  and  father,  I'll  do  the  best  there  is  in  me,  if  any 
of  you  love  me,  or  want  me  in  the  least,  or  will  give  me  an 
opportunity  to  try.'* 

"Mother,  would  you  come  where  we  are?  Would  you 
live  as  we  do?"  marvelled  the  boy. 

"Gladly,"  she  answered.  "It's  about  the  only  way  I 
could  live  now,  I've  given  away  so  much  of  the  money." 

"Then  I'll  ask  father!"  cried  the  boy.  "Why  I  forgot! 
Father  is  right  back  here!  Father!  Father!  Father 
come  quick!  Father  it  wasn't  the  Hermit  bird  at  all,  it 
was  mother!  And  oh  joy,  father,  joy!  She's  just  changed 
and  changed,  till  she's  most  as  changed  as  we  are  !  She'll 
come  back,  father,  and  she'll  go  to  the  woods  with  us,  oh 
she  will!  Father,  you're  glad,  aren't  you?" 

When  Nellie  Minturn  saw  her  husband  coming  across 
the  mosses,  his  arms  outstretched,  his  face  pain-tortured, 
she  came  swiftly  forward,  and  as  she  reached  Malcolm, 
Mr.  Minturn  caught  both  of  them  in  his  arms  crying: 
"My  sweetheart!  My  beautiful  sweetheart,  give  me  an- 
other chance,  and  this  time  I'll  be  the  head  of  my  family  in 
deed  and  in  truth,  and  I'll  make  life  go  right  for  all  of  us." 


CHAPTER  XIX 
ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES 

"TT'M  SORRY  no  end!"  said  Mickey.     "First  time  I 
ever  been  late.     I  was  helping  Peter;  we  were  so 

A  busy  that  the  first  thing  I  knew  I  heard  the  hum  of 
her  gliding  past  the  clover  field,  so  I  was  left.  I  know  how 
hard  you're  working.  It  won't  happen  again." 

Mickey  studied  his  friend  closely.  He  decided  the  time 
had  come  to  watch.  Douglas  Bruce  was  pale  and  restless, 
he  spent  long  periods  in  frowning  thought.  He  aroused 
from  one  of  these  and  asked:  "What  were  you  and  Peter 
doing  that  was  so  very  absorbing?" 

"Well  about  the  most  interesting  thing  that  ever  hap- 
pened," said  Mickey.  "You  see  Peter  is  one  of  the 
grandest  men  who  ever  lived;  he's  so  fine  and  doing  so 
many  big  things,  in  a  way  he  kind  of  fell  behind  in  the 
little  ones." 

"I've  heard  of  men  doing  that  before,"  commented 
Douglas.  "Can't  you  tell  me  a  new  one?" 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "You  know  the  place  and  how 
good  it  seems  on  the  outside — well  it  didn't  look  so  good 
inside,  in  the  part  that  counted  most.  You've  noticed  the 
big  barns,  sheds  and  outbuildings,  all  the  modern  con- 
veniences for  a  man,  from  an  electric  lantern  to  a  stump 
puller;  everything  I'm  telling  you — and  for  the  nice  lady, 

468 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        469 

nix!  Her  work  table  faced  a  wall  covered  with  brown  oil- 
cloth, and  frying  pans  heavy  enough  to  sprain  Willard,  a 
wood  fire  to  boil  clothes  and  bake  bread,  in  this  hot 
weather,  the  room  so  low  and  dark,  no  ice  box,  with  acres 
of  ice  close  every  winter,  no  water  inside,  no  furnace,  and 
carrying  washtubs  to  the  kitchen  for  bathing  as  well  as 
washing,  aw  gee — you  get  the  picture?" 

"I  certainly  do,"  agreed  Douglas,  "and  yet  she  was  a 
neat,  nice-looking  little  woman." 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "If  she  had  to  set  up  house- 
keeping in  Sunrise  Alley  in  one  day  you  could  tell  her  place 
from  anybody  else's.  Sure,  she's  a  nice  lady!  But  she 
has  troubles  of  her  own.  I  guess  everybody  has/* 

"Yes,  I  think  they  have,"  assented  Douglas.  "I  could 
muster  a  few  right  now,  myself." 

"Yes?"  cried  Mickey.  "That's  bad!  Let's  drop  this 
and  cut  them  out." 

"Presently,"  said  Douglas.  "My  head  is  so  tired  it 
will  do  me  good  to  think  about  something  else  a  few  min- 
utes. You  were  saying  Mrs.  Harding  had  trouble;  what  is 
it?" 

Mickey  returned  to  his  subject  with  a  chuckle. 

"She  was  'bout  ready  to  tackle  them  nervous  prostra- 
tions so  popular  with  the  Swell  Dames,"  he  explained, 
"because  every  morning  for  fifteen  years  she'd  faced  the 
brown  oilcloth  and  pots  and  pans,  while  she'd  been  wild 
to  watch  sunup  from  under  a  particular  old  apple  tree; 
when  she  might  have  seen  it  every  morning  if  Peter  had 
been  on  his  job  enough  to  saw  a  window  in  the  right  place. 
Get  that?" 


470  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Yes,  I  get  it,"  conceded  Douglas.     "Go  on!" 

"Well  I  began  her  work  so  she  started  right  away,  and 
before  she  got  back  in  comes  Peter.  When  he  asks  where 
she  was  and  why  she  went,  I  was  afraid,  but  for  her  sake 
I  told  him.  I  told  him  everything  I  had  noticed.  At  first 
he  didn't  like  it." 

"It's  a  wonder  he  didn't  break  your  neck." 

"Well,"  said  Mickey  judicially,  "as  I  size  Peter  up  he'd 
fight  an  awful  fight  if  he  was  fighting,  but  he  ain't  much  on 
starting  a  fight.  I  worked  the  separator  steady,  and  by 
and  by  when  I  'summed  up  the  argument,'  as  a  friend  of 
mine  says,  I  guess  that  cream  separator  didn't  look  any 
bigger  to  Peter,  set  beside  a  full  house  and  two  or  three 
sheds  for  the  stuff  he'd  brought  to  make  his  work  easier, 
than  it  did  to  me." 

"I'll  wager  it  didn't,"  laughed  Douglas. 

"No  it  didn't!"  cried  Mickey  earnestly.  "And  when  he 
stood  over  it  awhile,  that  big  iron  stove  made  his  kitchen, 
where  his  wife  lived  most  of  her  day,  seem  'bout  as  hot  as 
my  room  where  he  was  raving  over  Lily  having  been;  and 
when  he  faced  the  brown  oilcloth  and  the  old  iron  skillets 
for  a  few  minutes  of  silent  thought,  he  bolted  at  about 
two.  Peter  ain't  so  slow!" 

"What  did  he  do?"  asked  Douglas. 

"Why  we  planned  to  send  her  on  a  visit,"  said  Mickey, 
"and  cut  that  window,  and  move  in  the  pump,  and  invest 
in  one  of  those  country  gas  plants,  run  on  a  big  tank  of 
gasoline  away  outside  where  it's  all  safe,  and  a  bread- 
mixer,  and  a  dish-washer,  and  some  lighter  cooking  things; 
but  we  got  interned." 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        471 

"How  Mickey?"  interestedly  inquired  Douglas. 

"Remember  I  told  you  about  Junior  coming  in  to  hunt 
work  because  he  was  tired  of  the  country,  and  how  it 
turned  out?"  said  Mickey. 

"Yes  I  recall  perfectly,"  answered  Douglas. 

"There's  a  good  one  on  me  about  that  I  haven't  told  you 
yet,  but  I  will,"  said  Mickey.  "Well  when  son  came  home, 
wrapped  in  a  comfort,  there  was  a  ripping  up  on  the  part  of 
Peter.  He  just  'hurled  back  the  enemy,'  and  who  do  you 
think  he  hit  the  hardest?" 

"I  haven't  an  idea,"  said  Douglas. 

"In  your  shoes,  I  wouldn't  a-had  one  either,"  said 
Mickey.  "Well,  he  didn't  go  for  Junior,  or  his  Ma,  or  me. 
Peter  stood  Mister  Peter  Harding  out  before  us,  and  then 
didn't  leave  him  a  leg  to  stand  on.  He  proved  conclusive 
he'd  used  every  spare  moment  he'd  had  since  Junior  was 
in  short  clothes,  carrying  him  to  Multiopolis  to  amuse  him,, 
and  feed  him  treats,  and  show  him  shows;  so  he  was  to 
blame  if  Junior  developed  a  big  consuming  appetite  for  such, 
things.  How  does  the  argument  strike  you?" 

"Sound!"  cried  Douglas.  "Perfectly  sound!  It's  pre- 
cisely what  the  land  owners  are  doing  every  day  of  their 
lives,  and  then  wailing  because  the  cities  take  their  chil- 
dren. I've  had  that  studied  out  for  a  year  past." 

"Well  Peter  figured  it  right  there  for  us  in  detail,"  said 
Mickey.  "Then  he  tackled  Ma  Harding  and  her  sunup, 
and  then  he  thought  out  a  way  to  furnish  entertainment 
and  all  the  modern  comforts  right  there  at  home." 

"What  entertainment?"  said  Douglas. 

"Well  he  specified  saddles  and  horses  to  ride,"  grinned 


472  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Mickey,  "and  swimming,  and  a  fishing-boat  and  tackle  for 
all  of  us,  a  launch  on  whatever  lake  we  like  best,  a  big  en- 
tertainment house  with  a  floor  for  skating  and  dancing,  and 
a  stage  for  plays  we  will  get  up  ourselves,  and  a  movie 
machine.  I'm  to  find  out  how  to  run  one  and  teach  them, 
and  then  he?ll  rent  reels  and  open  it  twice  a  week.  The 
big  hole  that  will  cave  in  on  the  north  side  of  Multiopolis 
soon  now  will  be  caused  by  the  slump  when  our  neighbour- 
hood withdraws  its  patronage  and  begins  being  enter- 
tained by  Peter.  And  you'll  see  that  it  will  work,  too!'' 

"Of  course  it  will,"  agreed  Douglas.  "Once  the  country 
folk  get  the  idea  it  will  go  like  a  landslide.  So  that's  what 
made  you  late?" 

"Well  connected  with  that,"  explained  Mickey.  "Peter 
didn't  do  a  thing  but  figure  up  the  price  he'd  paid  for  every 
labour-saver  he  ever  bought  for  himself,  and  he  came  out  a 
little  over  six  thousand.  He  said  he  wouldn't  have  wanted 
Ma  in  a  hardware  store  selecting  his  implements,  so  he 
guessed  he  wouldn't  choose  hers.  He  just  drew  a  check 
for  what  he  said  was  her  due,  with  interest,  and  put  it  in 
her  name  in  the  bank,  and  told  her  to  cut  loose  and  spend  it 
exactly  as  she  pleased." 

"What  did  she  do?"  marvelled  Douglas. 

"Well  she  was  tickled  silly,  but  she  didn't  lose  her  head; 
she  began  investigating  what  had  been  put  on  the  market 
to  meet  her  requirements.  At  present  we  are  living  on  the 
threshing  floor  mostly,  and  the  whole  house  is  packed  up; 
when  it  is  unpacked,  there'll  be  a  bathroom  on  the  second 
floor,  and  a  lavatory  on  the  first.  There'll  be  a  furnace  in 
one  room  of  the  basement,  and  a  coal  bin  big  enough  for  a 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        473 

winter's  supply.  We  can  h*tch  on  to  the  trolley  line  for 
electric  lights  all  over  the  house,  and  barn,  and  outbuild- 
ings, and  tireless  cooker,  iron,  and  vacuum  cleaner,  and  a 
whole  bunch  of  conveniences  for  Ma,  including  a  washing 
machine,  and  stationary  tubs  in  the  basement.  Gee! 
Get  the  picture?" 

"I  surely  do!  What  else  Mickey?"  asked  Douglas. 
"You  know  I've  a  house  to  furnish  soon  myself." 

"Well  a  new  kitchen  on  the  other  end  of  the  building 
where  there's  a  breeze,  and  a  big  clover  field,  and  a  wood, 
and  her  work  table  right  where  it  is  in  line  with  her  private 
and  particular  sunup.  There's  a  big  sink  with  hot  and 
cold  water,  and  a  dish-washer.  There's  a  bread-mixer  and 
a  little  glass  churn,  both  of  which  can  be  hitched  to  the 
electricity  to  run.  There's  a  big  register  from  the  furnace 
close  the  work  table  for  winter,  and  a  gas  cook  stove  that 
has  more  works  than  a  watch." 

"What  does  the  lady  say  about  it?" 

''Mighty  little!"  said  Mickey.  "She  just  stands  and 
wipes  the  shiny  places  with  her  apron  or  handkerchief,  and 
laughs  and  cries,  'cause  she's  so  glad.  It  ain't  set  up  yet, 
but  you  can  see  just  standing  before  it  what  it's  going  to 
mean  for  her.  And  there's  a  chute  from  the  upstairs  to 
the  basement,  to  scoot  the  wash  down  to  the  electric  ma- 
chine to  rub  them,  and  a  little  gas  stove  with  two  burners 
to  boil  them,  and  the  iron  I  told  you  of.  Hanging  it  up  is 
the  hardest  part  of  the  wash  these  days,  and  since  they 
have  three  big  rooms  in  the  basement,  Peter  thought  this 
morning  that  he  could  put  all  the  food  in  one,  and  stretch 
ner  lines  in  the  winter  for  the  clothes  to  dry  in  the  wash- 


474  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

room.  The  furnace  will  heat  it,  and  it's  light  and  clean; 
we  are  going  to  paint  it  when  everything  is4in  place." 

"Is  that  all?"  queried  Douglas. 

"It's  a  running  start,"  said  Mickey;  "I  don't  know  as 
Peter  will  ever  get  to  'all/  The  kitchen  is  going  to  have 
white  woodwork,  and  blue  walls  and  blue  linoleum,  and 
new  blue-and-white  enamelled  cooking  things  from  start 
to  finish,  with  no  iron  in  the  bunch  except  two  skillets 
saved  for  frying.  Even  the  dishpan  is  going  to  be  blue, 
and  she's  crying  and  laughing  same  time  while  she  hems 
blue-and-white  wash  curtains  for  the  windows.  All  the 
house  is  going  to  have  hardwood  floors,  the  rooms  cut  more 
convenient;  out  goes  the  old  hall  into  just  a  small  place  to 
take  off  your  wraps,  and  the  remainder  added  to  the  par- 
lour. All  the  carpets  and  the  old  heavy  curtains  are  being 
ground  up  and  woven  into  rugs.  Gee,  it's  an  insurrection ! 
Ma  Harding  and  I  surely  started  things  when  we  planned 
to  dose  Junior  on  Multiopolis,  and  let  her  'view  the  land- 
scape o'er/  You  can  tell  by  her  face  she's  seeing  it!  If 
she  sails  into  the  port  o'  glory  looking  more  glorified,  it'll 
be  a  wonder!  And  Peter!  You  ought  to  see  Peter!  And 
Junior!  You  should  see  Junior  planning  his  room.  And 
Mickey!  You  must  see  Mickey  planning  his!  And  Mary 
and  Bobbie!  And  above  all,  you  should  see  Lily!  Last  I 
saw  of  her,  Peter  was  holding  her  under  her  arms,  and  she 
was  shoving  her  feet  before  her  trying  to  lift  them  up  a 
little.  We've  most  rubbed  them  off  her  with  fine  sand, 
and  then  stuck  them  in  cold  water,  and  then  sanded  them 
again,  and  they're  not  the  same  feet — that's  a  cinch!" 

"Is  that  the  sum  of  the  Harding  improvements?"  asked 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        475 

Douglas,  drawing  fine  lines  on  a  sheet  of  figures  before 
him. 

"Well  it's  a  fair  showing/'  said  Mickey.  "We  ain't 
got  the  new  rugs,  and  the  music  box,  and  the  books;  or  the 
old  furniture  rubbed  and  oiled  yet.  When  the  house  is 
finished,  Peter  expressly  specified  that  his  lady  was  to  get 
her  clothes  so  she  could  go  to  the  club  house,  and  not  be 
picked  for  a  country  woman  by  what  she  wore" 

"Mickey,  this  is  so  interesting  it  has  given  my  head 
quite  a  rest.  Maybe  now  I  can  see  my  way  clearly.  But 
one  thing  more:  how  long  are  you  planning  to  stay  there? 
You  talk  as  if •" 

" '  Stay  there  ? ' "  said  Mickey.  "  Didn't  you  hear  me  say 
there  was  a  horse  and  saddle  and  a  room  for  me,  and  a 
room  for  Lily  ?  *  Stay  there ! '  Why  for  ever  and  ever  more ! 
That's  home  !  When  I  got  into  trouble  and  called  on 
Peter  to  throw  a  lifeline,  he  did  it  up  browner  than  his  job 
for  Ma.  A  line  was  all  I  asked;  but  Peter  established  a  regu- 
lar Pertectorate — nobody  can  ' get'  us  now " 

"You  mean  Peter  adopted  both  of  you?"  cried  Douglas. 

"Sure!"  indorsed  Mickey  with  a  flourish.  "You  see  it 
was  like  this :  when  we  dosed  Junior  with  Multiopolis,  the 
old  threshing  machine  took  a  hand  and  did  some  things  to 
him  that  wasn't  on  the  program;  he  found  out  about  it, 
and  it  made  him  mad.  When  he  got  his  dander  up  he  hit 
back  by  turning  old  Miss  Country  loose  on  me.  First  I 
tried  a  ram  and  yellow  jackets;  then  only  a  little  bunch  of 
maple  twigs  was  all  the  pull  I  had  to  keep  me  from  going  to 
the  bottomless  pit  by  the  way  of  the  nastiest  quicksand  on 
Atwater  Lake.  Us  fellows  went  back  one  day  and  fed  it 


476  ,  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

logs  bigger  than  I  am,  and  it  sucked  them  down  like  Peter 
does  a  plate  of  noodles.  Then  Junior  thought  curling  a 
big  dead  rattler  in  the  path,  and  shunting  me  so  I'd  step 
right  on  it,  would  be  a  prime  joke;  but  he  didn't  figure  on 
the  snake  he  had  fixed  for  me  having  a  mate  as  big  and  ugly 
as  it  was,  that  would  follow  and  coil  zipping  mad  over  the 
warm  twisting  body " 

"Mickey!"  gasped  Douglas. 

"Just  so!  Exactly  what  I  thought — and  then  some. 
When  I  dragged  what  was  left  of  me  home  that  night,  and 
figured  out  where  I'd  been  if  the  big  maple  hadn't  spread 
its  branch  just  as  wide  as  it  did,  or  if  the  snake  had  hit  my 
leg  'stead  of  my  britches — when  I  took  my  bearings  and 
saw  where  I  was  at,  the  thing  that  really  hurt  me  worst  was 
that  if  I'd  gone,  either  down  or  up,  I  hadn't  done  anything 
for  Lily  but  give  her  a  worse  horror  than  she  had,  of  being 
'got'  by  them  Orphings'  Home  people,  when  I  should  have 
made  her  safe  forever.  I  took  Peter  to  the  barn  and  told 
him  just  how  it  was,  'cause  I  felt  mighty  queer.  I  wasn't 
so  sure  that  one  scratch  on  my  leg  that  looked  ugly 
mightn't  a-been  the  snake  striking  through  the  cloth  and 
dosing  me  some,  I  was  so  sick  and  swelled  up;  it  turned  out 
to  be  yellow  jackets,  but  it  might  a-been  snakes,  and  I  was 
a  little  upset.  As  man  to  man  I  asked  him  what  I  ought 
to  do  for  my  family  'fore  I  took  any  more  risks.  A-body 
would  have  thought  the  jolt  the  box  gave  me  would  have 
been  enough,  but  it  wasn't!  It  took  the  snake  and  the 
quicksand  to  just  right  real  wake  me  up.  First  I  was  some 
sore  on  Junior;  but  pretty  quick  I  saw  how  funny  it  was,  so 
I  got  over  it " 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        477 

"He  should  have  had  his  neck  broken!'* 

"Wope!  Wope!  Back  up!"  cautioned  Mickey.  "Noth- 
ing of  the  kind!  You  ain't  figuring  on  the  starving,  the 
beating,  being  knocked  senseless,  robbed  of  all  his  clothes 
twice,  and  landing  in  the  morgue  with  the  cleaning-house 
victims.  Gee,  Junior  had  reasons  for  his  grouch!" 

Douglas  Bruce  suddenly  began  to  laugh  wildly. 

"Umhum!  That's  what  I  told  you,"  said  Mickey. 
"Well,  that  night  I  laid  the  case  before  Peter,  out  on  the 
hay  wagon  in  the  barnyard,  so  moon  white  you  could  have 
read  the  Herald,  the  cattle  grunting  satisfied  all  around  us, 
katydids  insisting  on  it  emphatic,  crickets  chirping,  and 
the  old  rooster  calling  ofFthe  night  watches  same  as  he  did 
for  that  first  Peter,  who  denied  his  Lord.  I  thought  about 
that,  as  I  sat  and  watched  the  big  fellow  slowly  whittling 
the  rack,  and  once  in  a  while  putting  in  a  question,  and 
when  I'd  told  him  all  there  was  to  tell,  he  said  this:  he  said 
sure  Lily  was  mine,  and  I  had  a  perfect  right  to  keep  her; 
but  the  law  might  butt  in,  'cause  there  was  a  law  we 
couldn't  evade  that  could  step  in  and  take  her  any  day. 
He  said  too,  that  if  she  had  to  go  to  the  hospital,  sudden, 
first  question  a  surgeon  would  ask  was  who  were  her  par- 
ents, and  if  she  had  none,  who  in  their  place  could  give  him 
a  right  to  operate.  He  said  while  she  was  mine,  and  it  was 
my  right,  and  my  job,  the  law  and  the  surgeon  would  say 
wo,  'cause  we  were  not  related,  and  I  was  not  of  age.  He 
said  there  were  times  when  the  law  got  its  paddle  in,  and 
went  to  fooling  with  red  tape,  it  let  a  sick  person  lay  and  die 
while  it  decided  what  to  do.  He  said  he'd  known  a  few 
just  exactly  such  cases;  so  to  keep  the  law  from  making  a 


478  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

fool  of  itself,  as  it  often  did,  we'd  better  step  in  and  fix 
things  to  suit  us  before  it  ever  got  a  showdown." 

"What  did  he  do?"  asked  Douglas  Bruce  eagerly. 

"Well,  after  we'd  talked  it  over  we  moved  up  to  the 
back  porch  and  Peter  explained  to  Ma,  who  is  the  boss  of 
that  family,  only  she  doesn't  know  it,  and  she  said  for  him 
to  do  exactly  what  his  conscience  and  his  God  dictated. 
That's  where  his  namesake  put  it  over  that  first  Peter. 
Our  Peter  said:  'Well  if  God  is  to  dictate  my  course,  you 
remember  what  He  said  about  "suffering  the  little  chil- 
dren to  come  to  Him,"  and  we  are  commanded  to  be  like 
Him,  so  there's  no  way  to  twist  it,  but  that  it  means  suffer 
them  to  come  to  us,'  he  said. 

"Ma  she  spoke  quick  and  said:   'Well  we've  got  them!' 

"Peter  said,  'Yes,  we've  got  them;  now  the  question  is 
whether  we  keep  them,  or  send  them  to  an  Orphings' 
Home/ 

"The  nice  lady  she  said  faster  than  I  can  tell  you:  'Peter 
Harding,  I'm  ashamed  of  you !  There's  no  question  of  that 
kind!  There's  never  going  to  be!' 

"'Well  don't  get  het  up  about  it,'  said  Peter.  'I  knew 
all  the  time  there  wasn't,  I  just  wanted  to  hear  you  say  so 
-plain  and  emphatic.  So  far  as  I'm  concerned,  my  way  is 
clear  as  noonday  sun,'  said  Peter.  'Then  you  go  first 
thing  in  the  morning  and  adopt  them,  and  adopt  them 
both,  said  Ma.  'Lily  will  make  Mary  just  as  good  a  sister 
as  she  could  ever  have,'  said  she,  and  then  she  reached 
over  and  put  her  arms  right  around  me  and  she  said,  'And 
if  you  think  I'm  going  to  keep  on  trying  to  run  this  house 
•without  Mickey,  you're  mistaken.'  I  began  to  cry,  'cause 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        479 

I  had  had  a  big  day,  and  I  was  shaking  on  my  feet  anyway. 
Then  Peter  said,  'Have  you  figured  it  out  to  the  end?  Is 
it  to  be  'til  they  are  of  age,  or  forever?'  She  just  gripped 
tighter  and  said  fast  as  words  can  come,  'I  say  make  it  for- 
ever, and  share  and  share  alike.  I'm  willing  if  you  are/ 
Peter,  he  said,  'I'm  willing.  They'll  pay  their  way  any 
place.  Forever,  and  share  and  share  alike,  is  my  idea. 
Do  you  agree,  Mickey?'  'Exactly  what  do  you  mean?' 
I  asked,  and  Peter  told  me  it  was  making  me  and  Lily  both 
his,  just  as  far  as  the  law  could  do  it;  we  could  go  all  the 
farther  we  wanted  to  ourselves.  He  said  it  meant  him  get- 
ting the  same  for  me  and  Lily  as  he  did  for  his  own,  and 
leaving  us  the  same  when  he  died.  I  told  him  he  needn't  do 
that,  if  he'd  just  keep  off  the  old  Orphings'  Home  devil, 
that's  had  me  scared  stiff  all  my  days,  I'd  tend  to  that,  so 
now  me  and  Lily  belong  to  Peter;  he's  our  Pertectorate." 

"Mickey,  why  didn't  you  tell  me?"  asked  Douglas. 
"Why  didn't  you  want  me  to  adopt  you?" 

"Well  so  far  as  'adopting'  is  concerned,"  said  Mickey, 
"I  ain't  crazy  about  it,  with  anybody.  But  that's  the  law 
you  men  have  made;  a  boy  must  obey  it,  even  if  he'd 
rather  be  skinned  alive,  and  when  he  knows  it  ain't  right  or 
fair.  That's  the  law.  I  was  up  against  it,  and  I  didn't 
know  but  I  did  have  the  snake,  and  Peter  was  on  hand  and 
made  that  offer,  and  he  was  grand  and  big  about  it.  I 
don't  love  him  any  more  than  I  do  you;  but  I've  just  this 
minute  discovered  that  it  ain't  in  my  skin  to  love  any  man 
more  than  I  do  Peter;  so  you'll  have  to  get  used  to  the  fact 
that  I  love  him  just  as  well,  and  say,  Mr.  Bruce,  Peter  is 
the  finest  man  you  ever  knew.  If  you'll  come  out  and  get 


48o  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

acquainted,  you'll  just  be  tickled  to  have  him  in  the  Golf 
Club,  and  to  come  to  his  house,  and  to  have  him  at  yours. 
His  nice  lady  is  exactly  like  Miss  Winton,  only  older.  Say, 
she  and  Peter  will  adopt  you  too,  if  you  say  so,  and  between 
us,  just  as  man  to  man,  Peter  is  a  regular  lifesaver!  If  you 
got  a  chance  you  better  catch  on!  No  telling  what  you 
might  want  of  him!" 

"Mickey,  you  do  say  the  most  poignant  things!"  cried 
Douglas.  "I'd  give  all  I'm  worth  to  catch  on  to  Peter 
right  now,  and  cling  for  much  more  than  life;  but  what  I 
started,  I  must  finish,  and  Peter  isn't  here." 

"Well  what's  the  matter  with  me?"  asked  Mickey. 
"Have  you  run  into  the  yellow  jackets  too?  'Cause  if  you 
have,  I'm  ahead  of  you,  so  I  know  what  to  do.  Just  catch 
on  to  me!" 

"Think  you  are  big  enough  to  serve  as  a  straw  for  a 
drowning  man,  Mickey?"  inquired  Douglas. 

"Sure!  I'm  big  enough  to  establish  a  Pertectorate  over 
you,  this  minute.  The  weight  of  my  body  hasn't  any- 
thing to  do  with  the  size  of  my  heart,  or  how  fast  I  can 
work  my  brains  and  feet,  if  I  must." 

"Mickey,"  said  Douglas  despairingly,  "it's  my  candid 
opinion  that  no  one  can  save  me,  right  now." 

Mickey  opened  his  lips,  and  showed  that  his  brain  was 
working  by  shutting  them  abruptly  on  something  that 
seemed  very  much  as  if  it  had  started  to  be:  "Sure!" 

"Is  that  so?"  he  substituted. 

"Yes,  I'm  in  the  sweat  box,"  admitted  Douglas. 

"And  it's  uncomfortable  and  weakening.  \\  hat's  the 
first  thing  we  must  do  to  get  you  out : " 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        48 r 

"What  I'm  facing  now  is  the  prospect  that  there's  no 
way  for  me  to  get  out,  or  for  my  friends  to  get  me  out," 
admitted  Douglas.  "I  wish  I  had  Been  plowing  corn." 

The  boy's  eyes  were  gleaming.  He  was  stepping  from 
one  foot  to  the  other  as  if  the  floor  burned  him. 

"  Gosh,  we  must  saw  wood ! "  he  cried.  "  You  go  on  and 
tell  me.  I  been  up  against  a  lot  of  things.  Maybe  I  can 
think  up  something.  Honest,  maybe  I  can!" 

"No  Mickey,  there's  nothing  you  or  any  one  can  do. 
A  miracle  is  required  now,  and  miracles  have  ceased." 

"Oh  I  don't  know!"  exclaimed  Mickey.  "Look  how 
they  been  happening  to  me  and  Lily  right  along.  I  can't 
see  why  one  mightn't  be  performed  for  you  just  as  well.  I 
wish  you  wouldn't  waste  so  much  time!  I  wish  you 
hadn't  spent  an  hour  fooling  with  what  I  was  telling  you;. 
that  would  keep.  I  wish  you'd  give  me  a  job,  and  let  me 
get  busy." 

Douglas  Bruce  smiled  forlornly. 

"I'd  gladly  give  you  the  job  of  saving  me,  my  dear 
friend,"  he  said,  "but  the  fact  is  I  haven't  a  notion  of  how 
to  go  to  work  to  achieve  salvation." 

"Is  somebody  else  getting  ahead  of  you?" 

"Not  that  I  know  of!  No  I  don't  think  so.  That  isn't 
the  trouble,"  said  Douglas. 

"I  do  wish  you'd  just  plain  tell  me,"  said  Mickey. 
"Now  that  I  got  the  Pertectorate  all  safe  over  Lily,  I'd  do 
anything  for  you.  Maybe  I  could  think  up  some  scheme, 
I'm  an  awful  schemer!  I  wish  you'd  trust  me!  You 
needn't  think  I'd  blab  !  Come  on  now!" 

Suddenly  Douglas  Bruce's  long  arms  stretched  across 


MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

the  table  before  him,  his  head  fell  on  them,  and  shuddering 
sobs  shook  him.  Mickey's  dance  steps  became  six  inches 
high,  while  in  desperation  he  began  polishing  the  table  with 
his  cap.  Then  he  reached  a  wiry  hand  and  commenced 
rubbing  Douglas  up  and  down  the  spine.  The  tears  were 
rolling  down  his  cheeks,  but  his  voice  was  even  and  clear. 

"Aw  come  on  now!"  he  begged.  "Cut  that  out!  That 
won't  help  none!  What  shall  I  do  ?  Shall  I  call  Mr. 
Minturn?  Shall  I  get  Miss  Leslie  on  the  wire?" 

Bruce  arose  and  began  walking  the  floor. 

"Yes,"  he  said.     "Yes!     *  Bearer  of  Morning,' call  her!" 

Mickey  ran  to  the  telephone.  In  a  minute,  "Here  she 
is,"  he  announced.  "Shall  I  go?" 

"No!     Stay  right  where  you  are." 

"Hello  Leslie!  Are  you  all  right?  I'm  sorry  to  say  I 
am  not.  I'm  up  against  a  proposition  I  don't  know  how  to 
handle.  Why  just  this:  remember  your  father  told  me  in 
your  presence  that  if  in  the  course  of  my  investigations  I 
reached  his  office,  I  was  to  wait  until  he  got  back?  Yes. 
I  thought  you'd  remember.  You  know  the  order  of  the 
court  gave  me  access  to  the  records,  but  the  officials  whose 
books  I  have  gone  over  haven't  been  pleased  about  it,  al- 
though reflection  would  have  told  them  if  it  hadn't  been  I, 
it  would  have  been  some  other  man.  But  the  point  is  this: 
I'm  almost  at  the  finish  and  I  haven't  found  what  ob- 
viously exists  somewhere.  I'm  now  up  to  the  last  office, 
which  is  your  father's.  The  shortage  either  has  to  be 
there,  or  in  other  departments  outside  those  I  was  dele- 
gated to  search;  so  that  further  pursuit  will  be  necessary. 
Two  or  three  times  officials  have  suggested  to  me  that  I  go 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        483 

o\  er  your  father's  records  first,  as  an  evidence  that  there 
was  no  favouritism;  now  I  have  reached  them,  and  this 
proposition:  if  I  go  ahead  in  his,  as  I  have  in  other  offices,  I 
disobey  his  express  order.  If  I  do  not,  the  gang  will  set  up 
a  howl  in  to-morrow  morning's  paper,  and  they  will  start 
an  investigation  of  their  own.  Did  you  get  anything 
from  him  this  morning  Leslie  ?  Not  for  four  days  ?  And 
he's  a  week  past  the  time  he  thought  he  would  be  back?  I 
see!  Leslie,  what  shall  I  do?  In  my  morning's  mail  there 
is  a  letter  from  the  men  whose  records  I  have  been  over, 
giving  me  this  ultimatum:  'begin  on  Winton's  office  im- 
mediately, or  we  will.' 

"Tell  them  to  go  ahead?  But  Leslie!  Yes  I  know,  but 

Leslie Yes!  You  are  ordering  me  to  tell  them  that 

I  propose  to  conduct  the  search  in  his  department  as  I  did 
theirs,  and  if  they  will  not  await  his  return  from  this  busi- 
ness trip,  they  are  perfectly  free  to  go  ahead You  are 

sure  that  is  the  thing  you  want  said?  But  Leslie Yes, 

I  know,  but  Leslie  it  is  disobeying  him,  and  it's  barely  pos- 
sible there  might  be  a  traitor  there;  better  men  than  he 
have  been  betrayed  by  their  employees.  I  admit  I'm  all 
in.  I  wish  you  would  come  and  bring  your  last  letter  from 
him.  We'll  see  if  we  can't  locate  him  by  wire.  It's  an  ugly 
situation.  Of  course  I  didn't  think  it  would  come  to  this. 

Yes  I  wish  you  would!  If  you  say  so,  I  will,  but All 

right  then.  Come  at  once!  Good-bye!" 

Douglas  turned  to  his  desk,  wrote  a  few  hasty  lines  and 
said  to  Mickey:  "  Deliver  that  to  Muller  at  the  City  Hall." 

Mickey  took  the  envelope  and  went  racing.  In  half  the 
time  he  would  have  used  in  going  to  the  City  Hall  he  was 


484  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

in  the  Herald  Building,  making  straight  for  the  office  :>f 
the  editor.  Mr.  Chaffner  was  standing  with  a  group  of 
men  earnestly  discussing  some  matter,  when  his  eye  was 
attracted  by  Mickey,  directly  in  range,  and  with  the  tip  of 
his  index  finger  he  was  cutting  in  air  letters  plainly  to  be 
followed:  "S.  O.  S."  Chaffner  nodded  slightly,  and  con- 
tinued his  talk.  A  second  later  he  excused  himself,  and 
Mickey  followed  to  the  private  room. 

"Well?  "he  shot  at  the  boy. 

"Our  subm'rine  has  sunk  our  own  cotton." 

"Humph!"  said  Chaffner.  "I've  known  for  two  weeks 
it  was  heading  your  way.  Just  what  happened?" 

Mickey  explained  and  produced  the  letter.  Chaffner 
reached  for  it.  Mickey  drew  back. 

"Why  I  wouldn't  dare  do  just  that,"  he  said.  "But  I 
know  that's  what's  in  it,  because  I  heard  what  he  said,  and 
by  it  you  could  tell  what  she  said.  I've  told  you  every 
word,  and  you  said  the  other  day  you  knew;  please  tell  me 
if  I  should  deliver  this  letter?" 

"If  you  want  to  give  me  a  special  with  the  biggest  scoop 
often  years,"  said  Chaffner,  "and  ruin  Douglas  Bruce  and 
disgrace  the  Wintons,  take  it  right  along." 

"Aw  gee!"  wailed  Mickey,  growing  ghastly.  "Aw  gee, 
Mr.  Chaffner!  Why  you  cant  do  that!  Not  to  them! 
Why  they're  the  nicest  folks;  and  'tain't  two  weeks  ago  I 
heard  Miss  Leslie  say  to  Mr.  Bruce  right  in  our  office, 
*  losing  money  I  could  stand,  disgrace  would  kill  me.'  You 
can't  kill  her,  Mr.  Chaffner!  Why  she's  the  nicest,  and 
the  prettiest —  She  found  me,  and  sent  me  to  the  boss, 
like  I  told  you.  Honest  she  did!  Why  you  can't!  You 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        485 

just  cant  !  Why  Mr.  Chaffner,  I  can  see  by  your  nice  eyes 
you  can't!  Aw  gee,  come  on  now!" 

Mickey's  chin  hooked  over  the  editor's  elbow,  his  small 
head  was  against  his  arm,  his  eyes  were  dripping  tears,  but 
his  voice  controlled  and  steady  was  entreating. 

The  editor  of  a  big  city  daily  does  not  give  up  a  scoop 
like  that  without  a  struggle.  Mr.  Chaffner  had  his.  The 
boy  clung  to  him  and  implored. 

"You  know  there's  a  screw  loose  somewhere,"  explained 
Mickey.  "You  know  'darling  old  Daddy'  couldn't  ever 
have  done  it;  and  if  somebody  under  him  has  gone  wrong, 
maybe  he  could  make  it  up,  if  he  was  here  and  had  an  hour 
or  so.  That  day,  Miss  Leslie  said  he  should  give  all  he  had 
for  his  friend,  and  he  could  have  ail  of  hers.  If  she'd  be 
willing  for  the  money  to  go  for  her  'dear  old  Daddy's* 
friend,  course  she'd  be  glad  to  use  it  for  her  Daddy,  and 
she's  got  a  lot  from  her  mother,  and  maybe  Daddy  has  sold 
the  land  he  went  to  sell,  and  all  of  that  ought  to  be  enough; 
and  if  it  isn't,  I  know  who  will  help  them.  Honest  I  do!" 

"Who,  Mickey?"  demanded  Mr.  Chaffner,  instantly. 

"Mr.  Minturn!  Mr.  James  Minturn!"  said  Mickey. 
"He's  Mr.  Bruce's  best  friend,  and  he  told  me  he  would  do 
anything  for  Miss  Leslie,  that  day  right  after  I  saw  you,  for 
if  his  home  ever  came  right  again,  it  would  be  'cause  she 
made  it;  and  she  did  make  it,  and  it  is  right,  and  he's  so 
crazy  happy  he  can't  hardly  keep  on  the  floor.  Course  he'd 
pay  Miss  Leslie  back.  He  said  he  would.  He's  the  nicest 
man!" 

"Isn't  your  world  rather  full  of  nice  men,  Mickey?" 

Mickey  renewed  his  grip.     His  eyes  were  pleading,  the 


486  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

white  light  on  his  brow  was  shining,  his  voice  was  irresist- 
ibly sweet:  "You  just  bet  my  world  is  full  of  nice  men, 
packed  like  sardines;  but  they'll  all  scrooge  up  a  little  and 
make  room  for  you  on  the  top  layer  among  the  selects! 
Come  on  now!  Rustle  for  your  place  before  we  revolve 
and  leave  you.  All  your  life  you'll  be  sorry  if  you  make 
that  scoop,  and  kill  Miss  Leslie,  and  shame  'darling  old 
Daddy,'  and  ruin  my  boss.  Oh  I  say  Mr.  Chaffner,  you 
cant!  You  can't  ever  sleep  nights  again,  if  you  do! 
They  haven't  ever  done  anything  to  you.  You'll  be  the 
nicest  man  of  all,  if  you'll  tell  me  what  to  do.  'Twon't  take 
you  but  a  second,  'cause  you  know.  Oh  tell  me,  for  the 
love  of  God  tell  me,  Mr.  Chaffner!  You'll  be  the  nicest  man 
I  know,  if  you  II  tell  me." 

The  editor  looked  down  in  Mickey's  compelling  eyes. 
He  laid  his  hand  on  the  lad's  brow  and  said:  "That  would 
be  worth  the  price  of  any  scoop  I  ever  pulled  off,  Mickey. 
Are  you  going  to  be  a  lawyer  or  write  that  poetry  forme?" 

"If  I'd  ever  even  thought  of  law,  this  would  cook  me," 
said  Mickey.  "Poetry  it  is,  as  soon  as  I  earn  enough  to 
pay  for  rinding  out  how  to  do  it  right." 

"And  when  you  find  out,  will  you  come  on  my  staff,  and 
Work  directly  under  me?"  asked  Mr.  Chaffner. 

"Sure!"  promised  Mickey.  "I'd  rather  do  it  than  any- 
thing else  in  the  world.  I've  got  a  life  interest  in  the  Her- 
ald. It  would  suit  me  fine.  That  is,  if  you're  coming  in 


among  my  nice  men- 


Mr.  Chaffher  held  out  his  hand.  "This  is  going  to  cost 
me  something  in  prestige  and  in  cash,"  he  said,  "but 
Mickey,  you  make  it  worth  while.  Here  are  your  instruc- 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        487 

tions:  dont  deliver  that  letter!  Cut  for  Minturn  and  give 
it  to  him.  Tell  him  if  he  wants  me,  to  call  any  time  inside 
an  hour,  and  that  he  hasn't  longer  than  noon  to  make  good. 
He'll  understand.  If  you  can't  beat  a  taxi  on  foot,  take 
one.  Have  you  money?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mickey,  "but  just  suppose  he  isn't  there 
and  I  can't  find  him?" 

"Then  find  his  wife,  and  tell  her  to  call  me." 
"All  right!     Thanks,  boss!     You're  simply  great!" 
Mickey  took  the  taxi  and  convinced  the  driver  he  was  in 
a  hurry.     He  danced  in  the  elevator,  ran  down  the  hall, 
and  into  Mr.  Minturn's  door.    There  he  stopped  abruptly, 
for  he  faced  Miss  Winton  and  Mrs.  Minturn,  whose  paling 
face  told  Mickey  that  he  was  stamped  on  her  memory  as 
she  was  on  his.     He  pulled  off  his  cap,  bowed  to  them  and 
spoke  to  Mr.  Minturn. 

"Could  I  see  you  a  minute?"  he  asked. 
"Certainly!     Step  this  way.     Excuse  us  ladies." 
Mickey  showed  the  letter,  told  what  had  caused  it  to  be 
written,  and  that  he  had  gone  to  Mr.  ChafFner  instead  of 
delivering  it,  and  what  instructions  had  been  given  him 
there.     Mr.  Minturn  picked  up  the  telephone  and  called 
Mr.  ChafFner.     When  he  got  him  he  merely  said:    "This 
is  Minturn.    What's  the  amount,  and  where  does  he  bank 
his  funds  ?     Thank  you  very  much  indeed." 

Then  he  looked  at  Mickey.     "Till  noon  did  you  say?'* 
"Yes,"  cried  Mickey  breathlessly,  "and  'tisn't  so  long!" 
"No,"  said  Mr.  Minturn,  "it  isn't.     Ask  Mrs.  Minturn 
if  I  may  speak  with  her  a  moment." 

"Shall  I  come  back  or  stay  there?"  inquired  Mickey. 


488  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Come  back,"  said  Mr.  Minturn.     "I  may  need  you." 

Mickey  stood  before  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"Please  will  you  speak  with  Mr.  Minturn  a  minute?" 

"Excuse  me  Leslie,"  said  the  lady,  rising,  and  entering 
the  private  room.  There  she  turned  to  Mickey.  "I 
remember  you  very  well,"  she  said,  with  a  steady  voice. 
"You  needn't  shrink  from  me.  I've  done  all  in  my  power 
to  atone.  It  will  never  be  possible  for  me  to  think  of 
forgiving  myself;  but  you'll  forgive  me,  won't  you?" 

"Sure!     Why  lady,  I'm  awful  sorry  for  you." 

"I'm  sorry  for  myself,"  said  she.  "What  was  it  you 
wanted,  Mr.  Minturn?" 

"Suppose  you  tell  Mrs.  Minturn  about  both  your  visits 
here,"  suggested  Mr.  Mintum  to  Mickey. 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "You  see  it  was  like  this  lady. 
This  morning  Mr.  Bruce's  head  is  down,  and  if  he  doesn't 
get  help  before  noon,  he  and  Miss  Leslie  and  all  those  nice 
people  are  in  trouble.  I  thought  Mr.  Minturn  ought  to 
know,  so  I  slipped  in  and  told  him." 

"What  is  the  trouble,  lad?"  asked  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"  Why  you  see  Miss  Leslie's  'darling  old  Daddy'  is  one 
of  the  city  officials,  and  of  course  Mr.  Bruce  left  him  'til 
last,  because  he  would  a-staked  his  life  he'd  find  the  man 
he  was  hunting  before  he  got  to  his  office,  and  he  didn't!" 

"What,  James?"  said  the  lady,  turning  hurriedly. 

"Tell  her  about  it,  Mickey,"  said  Mr.  Minturn  calmly. 

"Well  there  ain't  much  to  tell,"  said  Mickey.  "My 
boss  he  just  kept  stacking  up  figures;  two  or  three  times 
he  thought  he  had  his  man  and  then  he'd  strike  a  balance; 
and  the  men  whose  records  he  searched  kept  getting  mad- 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        489 

der,  and  Mr.  Winton  went  west  to  sell  some  land.  Some- 
way he's  been  gone  a  week  longer  than  he  expected;  and 
my  boss  is  all  through  except  him,  and  now  the  other  men 
say  if  he  doesn't  begin  on  Mr.  Winton's  books  right  away, 
they  will,  and  he  told  my  boss  not  to  'til  he  got  back.  A  while 
ago  I  was  in  the  Herald  office  talking  to  Mr.  Chaffner, 
whose  papers  I've  sold  since  I  started  and  I  was  telling 
him  what  nice  friends  I  had,  and  how  Mr.  Bruce  and  Miss 
Leslie  were  engaged,  and  he  like  to  ate  me  up.  When  I 
couldn't  see  why,  he  told  me  about  investigations  he  had 
his  men,  like  I'm  going  to  be,  make,  and  sometimes  they 
get  a  'scoop'  on  the  men  appointed  to  do  the  job,  and  he 
told  me  he  had  a  'scoop'  on  this,  and  if  I  saw  trouble 
coming  toward  my  boss,  I  was  to  tell  him  and  maybe — he 
didn't  say  sure,  but  maybe  he'd  do  something." 

"Oh  James!"  cried  Mrs.  Minturn. 

"Wait  dear!     Go  on  Mickey,"  said  Mr.  Minturn. 

"Well,"  said  Mickey,  "the  elevated  jumped  the  track 
this  morning  when  my  boss  got  a  letter  saying  if  he  didn't 
go  on  at  once  with  Mr.  Winton's  office,  somebody  else 
would;  and  the  people  who  have  been  in  the  air  ever  since 
are  due  to  land  at  noon,  and  it's  pretty  quick  now,  and 
they  are  too  nice  for  any  use.  Did  you  ever  know  finer 
people?" 

"No  I  never  did,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn;  "but  James,  I 
don't  understand.  Tell  me  quickly  and  plainly." 

"Chaffner  just  gave  me  the  figures,"  he  said,  holding 
over  a  slip  of  paper.  "If  that  amount  is  to  Mr.  Winton's 
credit  on  his  account  with  the  city,  at  the  Universal  Bank 
before  noon — nothing  at  all.  If  it's  not,  disgrace  for 


490  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

them,  and  I  started  it  by  putting  Bruce  on  the  case.  I'll 
raise  as  much  as  I  can,  but  I  can't  secure  enough  by  that 
time  without  men  knowing  it.  Mr.  Winton  has  un- 
doubtedly gone  to  try  to  secure  what  he  needs;  but  he's 
going  to  be  too  late.  There  never  has  been  a  worse  time 
to  raise  money  in  the  history  of  this  country." 

"But  if  money  is  the  trouble,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn,  "you 
said  you  never  would  touch  what  I  put  in  your  name  for 
yourself,  why  not  use  it  for  him?  If  that  isn't  enough, 
I  will  gladly  furnish  the  remainder.  That  I'm  not  a 
stranded,  forsaken  woman  is  due  to  Leslie  Winton;  all 
I  have  wouldn't  be  big  enough  price  to  pay  for  you,  and 
my  boys,  and  my  precious  home.  Be  quick  James!" 

Mr.  Minturn  was  calling  the  Universal  Bank. 

Mickey  and  Mrs.  Minturn  waited  anxiously.  They 
involuntarily  drew  together,  and  the  woman  held  the  boy 
in  a  close  grip,  while  her  face  alternately  paled  and  flushed, 
and  both  of  them  were  breathing  short. 

"I  want  the  cashier!"  Mr.  Minturn  was  saying. 

"Don't  his  voice  just  make  you  feel  like  you  were  on  the 
rock  of  ages  ? "  whispered  Mickey. 

Mrs.  Minturn  smiling  nodded. 

"Hello,  Mr.  Freeland.  This  is  Minturn  talking — 
James  Minturn.  You  will  remember  some  securities  I 
deposited  with  you  not  long  ago?  I  wish  to  use  a  part  of 
them  to  pay  a  debt  I  owe  Mr.  Winton.  Kindly  credit 
his  account  with — oh,  he's  there  in  the  bank?  Well  never 
mind  then.  I  didn't  know  he  was  back  yet.  Let  it  go! 
I'll  see  him  in  person.  And  you  might  tell  him  that  his 
daughter  is  at  my  office.  Yes,  thank  you.  No  you 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        491 

needn't  say  anything  about  that  to  him;  we'll  arrange  it 
ourselves.  Good-bye!" 

"Now  where  am  I  at?"  demanded  Mickey. 

"I  don't  think  you  know,  Mickey,"  said  Mr.  Minturn, 
"and  I  am  sure  I  don't,  but  I  have  a  strong  suspicion  that 
Mr.  Winton  will  be  here  in  a  few  minutes,  and  if  his  mis- 
sion has  been  successful,  his  face  will  tell  it;  and  if  he's  in 
trouble,  that  will  show;  and  then  we  will  know  what  to 
do.  Mr.  Bruce  would  like  to  know  he  is  here,  and  at  the 
bank  I  think." 

"I'll  go  tell  him  right  away,"  said  Mickey. 

Douglas  was  walking  the  floor  as  Mickey  entered. 

"You  delivered  the  letter?"  he  cried. 

Mickey  shook  his  head,  producing  the  envelope. 

"You  didn't!"  shouted  Bruce.  "You  didn't!  Thank 
God !  Oh,  thank  God  you  didn't !  " 

"Aw-w-ah!"  protested  Mickey. 

"Why  didn't  you?"  demanded  Douglas. 

"Well  you  see,"  said  Mickey,  "me  and  Mr.  Chaffner 
of  the  Herald  were  talking  a  while  ago  about  some  poetry 
I'm  going  to  write  for  his  first  page,  soon  now — I've  always 
sold  his  papers  you  know,  so  I  sort  of  belong — and  I 
happened  to  tell  him  I  was  working  for  you,  and  how  fine 
you  were,  and  about  your  being  engaged  to  Miss  Leslie, 
and  he  seemed  to  kind  of  think  you  was  heading  for  trou- 
ble; he  just  plain  said  so.  I  was  so  scared  I  begged  him 
not  to  let  that  happen.  I  told  him  how  everything  was, 
and  finally  I  got  him  to  promise  that  if  you  did  get  into 
trouble  he'd  help  you,  at  least  he  almost  promised. 
You  see  he's  been  a  newspaper  man  so  long,  he  eats  it, 


492  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

and  sleeps  it,  and  breathes  it  all  day,  and  he  had  a 
'scoop'- 

"'He  had  a  scoop?'"  repeated  Douglas. 

"Yes!  A  great  one!  Biggest  one  in  ten  years!"  said 
the  boy.  "He  loved  it  so,  that  me  trying  to  pry  him 
loose  from  it  was  about  like  working  to  move  the  Iriquois 
Building  with  a  handspike.  All  he'd  promise  that  first 
trip  was  that  if  I'd  come  and  tell  him  when  I  saw  you'd 
got  into  trouble,  he'd  see  what  he  could  do." 

"Wanted  to  pump  you  for  material  for  his  scoop,  I  sup- 
pose?" commented  Douglas. 

"Wope!  Wope/!  Back  up!"  warned  Mickey.  "He 
didn't  pump  me  a  little  bit,  and  he  didn't  try  to.  He  told 
me  nearly  three  weeks  ago  just  what  would  happen  about 
now,  as  he  had  things  doped  out,  and  they  have.  I  didn't 
think  that  letter  should  be  delivered  this  morning,  'cause 
you  had  no  business  in  'darlmg  old^Daddy's'  office  if  he 
said  'stay  out.'"  In  came  Mickey's  best  flourish.  "Why 
he  mightn't  a-been  ready!"  he  exclaimed.  "He  had  his 
friend  to  help  you  remember,  I  heard  Miss  Leslie  tell  you 
he  did.  And  she  told  him  to.  She  told  you  he  could 
have  what  she  had,  you  remember  of  course.  He  might 
a-had  to  use  some  of  his  office  money  real  quick,  to  save 
a  friend  that  he  had  to  save  if  it  took  all  he  had  and  all 
Miss  Leslie  had;  and  that  was  right.  I  asked  you  the 
other  day  if  a  man  might  use  the  money  he  handled,  and 
you  said  yes,  he  was  expected  to,  if  he  had  his  books 
s-iraight  and  the  money  in  the  bank  when  his  time  for 
accounting  came.  Tain't  time  to  account  yet;  but  you 
was  doing  this  investigating  among  his  bunch,  and  so  I 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        493 

guess  if  he  did  use  the  money  for  his  friend,  he  had  to  go 
on  that  trip  he  was  too  busy  to  take  Miss  Leslie,  and  sell 
something,  or  do  something  to  get  ready  for  you.  That's 
all  right,  ain't  it  ? " 

"Yes,  if  he  could  do  it,"  conceded  Douglas. 

"Well  he  can!"  triumphed  Mickey.  "He  can!  *He 
can  just  as  easy,  'cause  he's  down  at  the  Universal  Bank 
doing  it  right  now!" 

"What? "cried  Douglas. 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "Back  on  time!  At  the  bank 
fixing  things  so  you  can  investigate  all  you  want  to. 
What's  the  matter  with  'darling  old  Daddy?'  He's  all 
right!  Go  on  and  write  your  letter  over,  and  tell  them 
anxious,  irritated  gents,  that  you'll  investigate  'til  the 
basement  and  cupola  are  finished,  just  as  soon  as  you 
make  out  the  reports  you  are  figuring  up  now.  That  will 
give  you  time  to  act  independent,  and  it  will  give  Daddy 
time  to  be  ready  for  you 

"Mickey,  what  if  he  didn't  get  the  land  sold?"  wavered 
Douglas.  "What  if  his  trip  was  a  failure?" 

"Well  that's  fixed,"  said  Mickey,  stepping  from  one 
toe  to  the  other.  "Don't  ruffle  your  down  about  that. 
If  'darling  old  Daddy'  has  bad  luck,  and  for  staking  his 
money  and  his  honour  on  his  friend,  he's  going  to  get 
picked  clean  and  dished  up  himself,  why  it's  fixed  so  he 
isn't!  See?" 

"  It's  fixed\?"  marvelled  Douglas. 

"Surest  thing  you  know!"  cried  Mickey.  "You've  had 
your  Pertectorate  all  safe  a  long  time,  and  didn't  know  it." 

"Mickey,  talk  fast!     Tell  me!    What  do  you  mean?" 


494  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Why  that  was  fixed  three  weeks  ago,  I  tell  you,"  ex- 
plained Mickey.  "When  Mr.  Chaffner  said  you  would 
strike  trouble,  I  wasn't  surprised  any,  'cause  I've  thought 
all  the  time  you  would;  and  when  you  did,  I  went  skinning 
to  him,  and  he  told  me  not  to  deliver  that  letter;  and  he 
was  grand,  just  something  grand!  He  told  me  what  had 
to  happen  to  save  you,  so  I  kept  the  letter,  and  scuttled 
for  Mr.  James  Minturn,  who  started  all  this,  and  I  just 
said  to  him,  'Chickens,  home  to  roost,'  or  words  like  that; 
and  he  got  on  the  wire  with  Chaffner,  and  'stead  of  giving 
that  'scoop'  to  all  Multiopolis  and  the  whole  world,  he 
give  Mr.  Minturn  a  few  figures  on  a  scrap  of  paper  that  he 
showed  to  his  nice  lady — gosh  you  wouldn't  ever  believe 
she  was  a  nice  lady  or  could  be,  but  honest,  Mr.  Bruce,  me 
and  her  has  been  holding  hands  for  half  an  hour  while  we 
planned  to  help  you  out,  and  say,  she's  so  nice,  she's  just 
peachy — and  she's  the  same  woman.  I  don't  know  how 
that  happens,  but  she's  the  same  woman  who  fired  me  and 
the  nice  lady  from  Plymouth,  and  now  she  ain't  the  same, 
and  these  are  the  words  she  said:  'All  I  have  on  earth 
would  not  be  enough  to  pay  Leslie  Winton  for  giving  you 
back  to  me,  and  my  boys,  and  my  precious  home.'  'Pre- 
cious home ! '  Do  you  get  that  ?  After  her  marble  palace, 
where  she  is  now  must  look  like  a  cottage  on  the  green  to 
her,  but  'precious  home'  is  what  she  said,  and  she  ought 
to  know— 

"Mickey  go  on!  You  were  saying  that  Mr.  Chaffner 
gave  Mr.  Minturn  some  figures —  "  prompted  Douglas. 

"Yes,"  said  Mickey.  "His  precious  'scoop,'  so  Mr. 
Minturn  showed  her,  and  she  said  just  as  quick  to  put 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        495 

that  amount  to  Mr.  Winton's  credit  at  the  Universal 
Bank,  so  he  called  the  bank  to  tell  them;  when  he  got 
the  cashier  he  found  that  'darling  old  Daddy'  was  there 
that  minute " 

"'Was  there?'"  cried  Douglas. 

"'Was  there,'"  repeated  Mickey;  "so  Mr.  Minturn 
backed  water,  and  tlien  he  told  the  cashier  he  needn't  men- 
tion to  Mr.  Winton  that  he  was  going  to  turn  over  some 
securities  he  had  there  to  pay  a  debt  he  owed  him,  'cause 
now  that  he  was  home,  they  could  fix  it  up  between  them- 
selves. But  he  told  the  cashier  to  tell  Mr.  Winton  that 
Miss  Leslie  was  in  his  office.  He  said  '  Daddy*  would  come 
to  her  the  minute  he  could,  and  then  if  he  was  happy  and 
all  right,  it  meant  that  he  had.  sold  his  land  and  made 
good;  and  if  he  was  broke  up,  we  would  know  what  to  do 
about  putting  the  money  to  his  credit.  The  nice  lady  said 
to  put  a  lot  more  than  he  needed,  so  if  they  did  investigate 
they  could  see  he  was  all  right,  and  he  had  plenty.  See? 

Mr.  Minturn  said  we  could  tell  the  minute  we  saw 
i  •  » 

"Well  young  man,  can  you?"  inquired  a  voice  behind 
them. 

With  the  same  impulse  Douglas  and  Mickey  turned  to 
find  Mr.  Winton  and  Leslie  standing  far  enough  inside  the 
door  to  have  heard  all  that  had  been  said.  A  slow  red 
crept  over  Mickey's  fair  face.  Douglas  sprang  to  his  feet, 
his  hand  outstretched,  words  of  welcome  on  his  lips.  Mr. 
Winton  put  him  aside  with  a  gesture. 

"I  asked  this  youngster  a  question,"  he  said,  "and  I'm 
deeply  interested  in  the  answer.  Can  you  ?  " 


496  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Mickey  stepped  forward,  taking  one  long,  straight  look 
into  the  face  of  the  man  hefore  him;  then  his  exultant  laugh 
trilled  as  the  notes  of  Peter's  old  bobolink  bird  on  the 
meadow  fence. 

"Surest  thing  you  know!"  he  cried  in  ringing  joy. 
"You're  tired,  you  need  washing,  sleep,  and  a  long  rest,  but 
there  isn't  any  glisteny,  green  look  on  your  face.  It's  been 
with  you,  like  I  told  Mr.  Chaffner  it's  in  the  Bible;  only 
with  you,  it's  been  even  more  than  a  man  'laying  down  his 
life  for  his  friend,'  it  was  a  near  squeak,  but  you  made  it! 
Gee,  you  made  it!  I  should  say  I  could  tell!" 

Mr.  Winton  caught  Mickey,  lifting  him  from  his  feet. 
"God  made  a  jewel  after  my  heart  when  he  made  you  lad," 
he  said.  "If  you  haven't  got  a  father,  I'm  an  insistent 
candidate  for  the  place." 

"Gee,  you're  the  nicest  man!"  said  Mickey.  "If  I  was 
out  with  a  telescope  searching  for  a  father,  I'd  make  a 
home  run  for  you;  but  you  see  I'm  fairly  well  fixed.  Here's 
my  boss,  too  fine  to  talk  about,  that  I  work  for  to  earn 
money  to  keep  me  and  my  family;  there's  Peter,  better 
than  gold,  who's  annexed  both  me  and  my  child;  there's 
Mr.  Chaffner  punching  me  up  every  time  I  see  him  about 
my  job  for  him,  soon  as  I  finish  school;  I'd  like  you  for  a 
father,  only  I'm  crazy  about  Peter.  Just  you  come  and 
see  Peter,  and  you'll  understand- — 

"I'll  be  there  soon,"  said  Mr.  Winton.  "I  have  reasons 
for  wanting  to  know  him  thoroughly.  And  by  the  way, 
how  do  you  do,  Douglas  ?  How  is  the  great  investigation 
coming  on?  'Fine!'  I'm  glad  to  hear  it.  Push  it  with 
all  your  might,  and  finish  up  so  we  can  have  a  month  on 


ESTABLISHING  PROTECTORATES        497 

Atwater  without  coming  back  and  forth.  I  feel  as  if  I'd 
need  about  that  much  swimming  to  make  me  clean,  as  the 
young  man  here  suggests;  travelling  over  the  west  in  mid- 
summer is  neither  cool  nor  cleanly;  but  it's  great,  when 
things  sell  as  ours  did.  Land  seems  to  be  moving,  and 
there's  money  under  the  surface;  nobody  has  lost  so  much, 
they  are  only  economizing;  we  must  do  that  ourselves,  but 
Swain  and  I  are  both  safe,  so  we  shall  enjoy  a  few  years  of 
work  to  recoup  some  pretty  heavy  losses;  we're  not  worth 
what  we  were,  but  we  are  even,  with  a  home  base,  the  love 
of  God  big  in  our  hearts,  and  doubly  all  right,  since  if  we 
couldn't  have  righted  ourselves,  our  friends  would  have 
saved  us,  thanks  to  this  little  live  wire  on  my  left!" 

"Oh  Daddy,  if  you'd  searched  forever,  you  couldn't 
have  found  a  better  name  for  Mickey!"  cried  Leslie. 
''Come  on  Douglas  let's  go  home  and  rest." 

"Just  as  soon  as  I  write  and  start  Mickey  with  a  note," 
said  Douglas.  "Go  ahead,  I'll  be  down  soon." 

He  turned  to  his  desk,  wrote  a  few  lines,  and  sealing 
them,  handed  the  envelope  to  the  waiting  boy. 

"City  Hall,"  he  said.     "And  Mickey,  I  see  the  whole 

thing.     It  will  take  some  time  to  figure  just  what  I  do  owe 

» 
you — — 

"Aw-a-ah  g'wan!"  broke  in  Mickey,  backing  away. 

"Mickey,  we?ll  drive  you  to  take  the  note,  and  then  you 
come  with  us,"  said  Douglas. 

"Thanks,  but  it  would  try  my  nerve,"  said  Mickey, 
"and  I  must  help  Peter  move  in  the  pump!" 


CHAPTER  XX 
MICKEY'S  MIRACLE 

r"  ™^HAT  night  Mickey's  voice,  shrill  in  exuberant  re- 
joicing, preceded  him  down  the  highway,  so  the 

JL  Hardings,  all  busy  working  out  their  new  plans 
for  comfort,  understood  that  something  unusually  joyous 
had  happened.  Peaches  sat  straighter  in  her  big  pillow- 
piled  chair,  leaned  forward,  and  smilingly  waited. 

"Ain't  he  happy  soundin'?"  she  said  to  Mrs.  Harding, 
who  sat  near  her  sewing.  "I  guess  he  has  thought  out  the 
best  po'try  piece  yet.  Mebby  this  time  it  will  be  good 
enough  for  the  first  page  of  the  Herald." 

"Young  as  he  is,  that's  not  likely,"  said  the  literal 
woman.  "There's  no  manner  of  doubt  in  my  mind  but 
that  he  can  do  great  newspaper  work  when  he  finishes  his 
education  and  makes  his  start;  but  I  think  Mr.  Bruce  will 
use  all  his  influence  to  turn  him  toward  law." 

"Mr.  Douglas  Bruce  is  a  swell  gentl'man,"  said  Peaches, 
"and  me  and  Mickey  just  loves  him  for  his  niceness  to  us; 
but  we  got  that  all  settled.  Mickey  is  going  to  write  the 
po'try  piece  for  the  first  page  of  the  Herald — Chat's  our 
paper — and  then  we  are  going  to  make  all  my  pieces  into 
a  bu'ful  book,  like  I  got  it  started  here." 

Peaches  picked  up  a  small  notebook,  scrupulously  kept, 
and  lovingly  glanced  over  the  pages,  on  each  of  which  she 

498 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  499 

had  induced  Mickey  to  write  in  his  plainest  script  one 
section  of  her  nightly  doggerel;  and  if  he  failed  from  the  in- 
tense affairs  of  the  day,  she  left  a  blank  page  for  him  to  fill 
later.  Taken  together,  the  remainder  of  her  possessions 
were  as  nothing  to  Peaches  compared  with  that  book.  Not 
an  hour  of  the  day  passed  that  it  was  not  in  her  fingers, 
every  line  of  it  she  knew  by  heart,  and  she  learned  more 
from  it  than  all  Mickey's  other  educational  efforts.  Peter 
scraped  a  piece  of  fine  black  walnut  furniture  free  from  the 
accumulated  varnish  of  years,  and  ran  an  approving  hand 
over  the  smooth  dark  surface,  seasoned  with  long  use.  He 
smiled  at  her.  She  smiled  back,  falling  into  a  little  chant 
that  had  been  on  her  lips  much  of  the  time  of  late:  ''You 
know,  Peter!  You  know,  Peter!  We  know  somepin'  we 
won't  tell!" 

Peter  nodded,  beaming  on  her. 

"Just  listen  to  that  boy,  Peter,  he  must  be  perfectly 
possessed!"  said  Nancy. 

"He  didn't  ever  sound  so  glad  before!"  cried  the  child 
eagerly. 

Mickey  came  up  the  walk  radiant.  He  divided  a  smile 
between  Mrs.  Harding  and  Peter,  and  bowed  low  before 
Peaches  as  he  laid  a  package  at  her  feet.  Then  he  struck 
an  attitude  of  exaggerated  obeisance  and  recited: 

"  Days  like  this  I'm  tickled  silly, 
When  I  see  my  August  Lily. 
No  other  fellow,  dude  or  gawk, 
Owns  a  flower  that  can  laugh  and  talk." 

Peaches  immediately  laughed;  so  did  all  of  them. 


Soo  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"  Peter,"  asked  Mickey,  "were  you  ever  so  glad  that  you 
thought  you  would  bust  wide  open?" 

"I  was,"  said  Peter;  "I  am  this  minute." 
"Would  you  mind  specifying  circumstances?" 
"Not  a  bit,"  said  Peter.     "  First  time  was  when  Ma  said 
she'd  marry  me,  and  I  got  my  betrothal  kiss;  seco*d,  was 
the  day  she  said  she'd  forgive  my  years  of  selfish  dunder- 
headedness,  and  start  over.      Now  you,  Mickey,  what's 
yours?" 

"The  great  investigation  is  over,  so  far  as  our  commis- 
sion goes,"  answered  Mickey.  "Multiopolis  isn't  robbed 
where  she  was  sure  she  was.  Her  accounts  balance  in  the 
departments  we've  gone  over.  Nobody  gets  the  slick  face, 
the  glass  eye,  the  lawn  mower  on  his  cocoanut,  or  dons  the 
candy  suit  from  our  work;  but  some  folks  I  love  had  a  near 
squeak,  and  I  got  a  month  vacation!  Think  of  that,  Miss 
Lily  Peaches  CKHalloran!  Gee,  let's  get  things  fixed  up 
here  and  have  a  party,  to  show  the  neighbouring  gentlemen 
what's  coming  to  them,  before  the  weather  gets  so  cold 
they  won't  have  time  to  finish  their  jobs  this  fall.  Some  of 
them  will  squirm,  but  we  don't  care.  Some  of  them  will 
think  they  won't  do  it,  but  they  vnLL  Kiss  me,  Lily!  Hug 
me  tight,  and  let  me  go  dig  on  the  furnace  foundation  'til  I 
sweat  this  out  of  me." 

When  the  children  were  sleeping  that  night  he  sat  on  the 
veranda  and  told  Mrs.  Harding  and  Peter  exactly  what  he 
thought  wise  to  repeat  of  the  day's  experience  and  no  more; 
so  that  when  he  finished,  all  they  knew  was  that  the  in- 
vestigation was  over,  so  far  as  Mr.  Bruce  was  concerned, 
Mickey  had  a  vacation,  and  was  a  happy  boy. 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  501 

As  she  came  to  dinner  the  next  day,  Mary  laid  a  bundle 
of  mail  beside  her  father's  plate.  When  he  saw  it,  Peter,  as 
was  his  custom,  reached  for  the  Herald  to  read  the  war 
headlines.  He  opened  the  paper,  gave  it  a  shake,  stared  at 
it  in  amazement,  scanned  a  few  lines  and  muttered :  "Well 
for  the  Lord's  sake!" 

Then  he  glanced  over  the  sheets  at  Mickey  and  back 
again.  The  family  arose  and  hurried  to  a  point  of  vantage 
at  Peter's  shoulder,  while  he  spread  the  paper  wide  and 
held  it  high  so  that  all  of  them  could  see.  Enclosed  in  a 
small  ruled  space  they  read: 


Sacred  to  the  memory  of  the  biggest  scoop, 
That  ever  fell  in  Mister  Chaffner's  soup, 
And  was  pitched  by  this  nicest  editor-man, 
Where  it  belonged,  in  the  garbage  can, 
To  please  his  friend,  Michael  O'Halloran. 
Whoop  fellers,  whoop,  for  the  drownded  scoop, 
That  departed  this  life  in  our  Editor's  soup! 
All  together  boys,  Scoop !     Soup !     Whoop ! 


They  rushed  at  Mickey,  shook  hands,  thumped,  patted 
and  praised  him,  when  a  wail  arose  to  the  point  of  reaching 
his  consciousness. 

"Mickey,  what?"  cried  Peaches. 

"Let  me  take  it  just  a  minute,  Peter,"  said  Mickey. 

"Wait  a  second,"  suggested  Mrs.  Harding,  picking  up 
a  big  roll  that  they  had  knocked  to  the  floor.  "This 
doesn't  look  like  catalogues,  and  it's  addressed  to  you. 
Likely  they've  sent  you  some  of  your  own." 

"Now  maybe  Mr.  Chaffher  did,"  said  Mickey,  almost 


502  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

at  the  bursting  point.  "Course  he  is  awful  busy,  the 
busiest  man  in  the  world,  I  expect,  but  he  might  have  sent 
me  a  copy  of  my  poetry,  since  he  used  it." 

With  shaking  fingers  he  opened  the  roll,  and  there  were 
several  copies  of  the  Herald  similar  to  the  one  Peter  held, 
and  on  the  top  of  one  was  scrawled  in  pencil:  "Your 
place,  your  desk,  and  your  salary  are  ready  whenever  you 
want  to  begin  work.  You  can't  come  too  soon  to  suit  me. 
— CHAFFNER." 

Mickey  read  it  aloud. 

"Gee!"  he  said.  "I  'most  wish  I  had  education  enough 
to  begin  right  now.  I'd  like  it!  I  could  just  go  crazy 
about  that  job!  Yes  honey!  Yes,  I'm  coming!" 

He  caught  up  another  paper,  and  hurried  across  the 
room,  quietly  but  decidedly  closing  the  door  behind  him, 
so  when  Mary  started  to  follow,  Junior  interposed. 

"Better  not,  Molly,"  he  said.  "Mickey  wants  to  be 
alone  with  his  family  for  a  few  minutes.  Say  father, 
ain't  there  a  good  many  newspaper  men  worked  all  their 
lives,  and  got  no  such  show  as  that?" 

"I  haven't  a  doubt  of  it,"  said  Peter. 

"Mickey  must  have  written  that,  and  sent  it  in  before  he 
came  home  yesterday,"  said  Mrs.  Harding.  "A  call  it 
pretty  bright!  I  bet  if  the  truth  was  told,  something  went 
wrong,  and  he  was  at  the  bottom  of  shutting  it  up.  Don't 
you  call  that  pretty  bright,  Pa?" 

"I  guess  I'm  no  fair  judge,"  said  Peter.  "I'm  that 
prejudiced  in  his  favour  that  when  he  said,  'See  the  cat 
negotiate  the  rat '  out  in  the  barn,  I  thought  it  was  smart." 

"Yes,    and   it  was,"   commented   Junior.     "It's   been 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  503 

funny  for  everybody  to  'negotiate'  all  sorts  of  things  ever 
since  that  north  pole  business,  so  it  was  funny  for  the  cat 
too.  Father,  do  you  think  that  note  really  means  that 
Mr.  Chaffner  would  give  Mickey  a  place  on  his  paper,  and 
pay  him  right  now?" 

"I  don't  know  why  Chaffner  would  write  it  out  and 
sign  his  name  to  it  if  he  didn't  mean  it,"  said  Peter. 

"You  know  he  is  full  of  stuff  like  that,"  said  Junior. 
"He  could  do  some  every  day  about  people  other  than 
Peaches  if  he  wanted  to.  Father,  ain't  you  glad  he's  in 
our  family?  Are  you  going  to  tell  him  to  take  that  job 
if  he  asks  you?" 

"No  I  ain't,"  said  Peter.  "He's  too  young,  and  not 
the  book  learning  to  do  himself  justice,  while  that  place 
is  too  grown  up  and  exciting  for  a  boy  of  his  nerve  force. 
Don't  you  think,  Nancy?" 

"Yes,  I  do,  but  you  needn't  worry,"  said  Mrs.  Harding. 
"Mickey  knows  that  himself.  Didn't  you  hear  him  say 
soon  as  he  read  it,  that  he  hadn't  the  education  yet?  He's 
taken  care  of  himself  too  long  to  spoil  his  life  now,  and 
he  will  see  it;  but  I  marvel  at  Chaffner.  He  ought  to 
have  known  better.  And  among  us,  I  wonder  at  Mickey. 
Where  did  he  get  it  from  ? " 

"Easy!"  said  Peter.  "From  a  God-fearing,  intelligent 
mother,  and  an  irresponsible  Irish  father,  from  inborn, 
ingrained  sense  of  right,  and  a  hand-to-hand  scuffle  with 
life  in  Multiopolis  gutters.  Mickey  is  all  right,  and  thank 
God,  he's  ours  !  If  he  does  show  signs  of  wanting  to  go 
to  the  Herald  office,  discourage  him  all  you  can,  Ma;  it 
wouldn't  be  good  for  him — yet." 


504  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"No  it  wouldn't;  but  it  would  be  because  he  needs 
solid  study  and  school  routine  to  settle  him,  and  make 
him  great  instead  of  a  clown,  as  that  would  at  his  age. 
But  if  you  think  there  is  anything  in  the  Herald  office  that 
could  hurt  Mickey,  you  got  another  think  coming.  It 
wouldn't  hurt  Mickey;  but  it  would  be  mighty  good  for 
the  rest  of  them.  The  Herald  has  more  honour  and  con- 
science than  most;  some  of  the  papers  are  just  disgraceful 
in  what  they  publish,  and  then  take  back  next  day;  while 
folks  are  forced  to  endure  it.  Sit  up  and  eat  your  dinners 
now.  I  want  to  get  on  with  my  work." 

"Mickey,  what  happened?"  begged  Peaches  as  Mickey 
came  in  sight,  carrying  the  papers. 

He  was  trembling  and  tensely  excited  as  her  sharp 
eyes  could  see.  They  rested  probingly  a  second  on  him, 
then  on  the  paper.  Her  lips  tightened  while  her  eyes 
darkened.  She  stretched  out  her  hand. 

"Mickey,  let  me  see!"  she  commanded. 

Mickey  knelt  beside  her,  spreading  out  the  sheet. 
Then  he  took  her  hand,  setting  a  finger  on  the  first  letter 
of  his  name  and  slowly  moved  along  as  she  repeated  the 
letters  she  knew  best  of  all,  then  softly  pronounced  the 
name.  She  knew  the  Herald  too.  She  sat  so  straight 
Mickey  was  afraid  she  would  sprain  her  back,  lifting 
her  head  "like  a  queen,"  if  a  queen  lifts  her  head  just  as 
high  as  her  neck  can  possibly  stretch,  and  smiled  a  cold 
little  smile  of  supreme  self-satisfaction. 

"Now  Mickey,  go  on  and  read  what  you  wrote  about 
me,"  her  Highness  commanded. 

The  collapse  of  Mickey  was  sudden  and  complete.     He 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  505 

stared  at  Peaches,  at  the  paper,  opened  his  lips,  thought 
a  lie  and  discarded  it,  shut  his  lips  to  pen  the  lie  in  for 
sure,  and  humbly  and  contritely  waited,  a  silent  candidate 
for  mercy.  Peaches  had  none.  To  her  this  was  the 
logical  outcome  of  what  she  had  been  led  to  expect.  There 
was  the  paper.  The  paper  was  the  Herald.  There  was 
the  front  page.  There  was  Mickey's  name.  She  had  no 
conception  of  Mickey  writing  a  line  which  did  not  concern 
her;  also  he  had  expressly  stated  that  all  of  them  and  the 
whole  book  were  to  be  about  her.  She  indicated  the 
paper  and  his  name,  while  the  condescension  of  her  wait- 
ing began  to  be  touched  with  impatience. 

"Mickey,  why  don't  you  go  on  and  read  what  it  says 
about  me?"  she  demanded. 

Mickey  saw  plainly  what  must  be  done.  He  gazed 
at  her  and  suddenly,  for  the  first  time,  a  wave  of  some- 
thing new  and  undefined  rushed  through  him.  This 
exquisitely  delicate  and  beautiful  little  Highness,  sitting 
so  proudly  straight,  and  so  uncompromisingly  demand- 
ing that  he  redeem  his  promises,  made  a  double  appeal 
to  Mickey.  Her  Highness  scared  him  until  he  was  cold 
inside.  He  was  afraid,  and  he  knew  it.  He  wanted  to 
run,  and  he  knew  it;  yet  no  band  of  steel  could  have  held 
him  as  this  bit  of  white  femininity,  beginning  to  glow  a 
soft  pink  from  slowly  enriching  blood,  now  held  and  for- 
ever would  hold  him,  and  best  of  all  he  knew  that.  It 
was  in  his  heart  to  be  a  gentleman;  there  was  nothing 
left  save  to  be  one  now.  He  took  both  Peaches'  hands, 
and  began  preparing  her  gently  as  was  in  his  power  for 
what  had  to  come. 


S'o6  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Yes,  Flowersy-girl,"  he  said,  "I'll  read  it  to  you,  but 
you  won't  understand  'til  I  tell  you " 

"I  always  understand,"  she  said  sweepingly. 

"You  know  how  wild  like  I  came  home  last  night,"  ex- 
plained Mickey.  "Well,  I  had  reason.  Some  folks  who 
have  been  good  to  us,  and  that  I  love  like  we  love  Peter 
and  Ma,  had  been  in  awful  danger  of  something  that 
would  make  them  sore  all  their  lives,  and  maybe  I  had 
some  little  part  in  putting  it  over,  so  it  never  touched 
them;  anyway,  they  thought  so,  and  I  was  tickled  past 
all  sense  and  reason  about  it.  It  was  up  to  the  editor  of 
the  Herald  to  decide;  and  what  he  did,  was  what  I  begged 
him  to.  Course  left  to  himself,  he  would  a-done  it  any- 
way, after  he  had  time  to  think " 

"Mickey,  read  my  po'try  piece  about  me,  an'  then 
talk,"  urged  Peaches. 

"Honey,  you  make  me  so  sick  I  can't  tell  you." 

"Mickey,  what's  the  matter?" 

Peaches'  penetrating  eyes  were  slowly  changing  to 
accusing.  She  drew  a  deep  breath,  giving  him  his  first 
cold,  unrelenting  look. 

"Mister  Michael  O'Halloran,"  she  said  in  incisive  tones, 
"did  you  write  a  po'try  piece  for  the  first  page  of  the 
Herald,  not  about  me?" 

"Well  Miss  Chicken,"  he  cried,  "I  wish  you  wouldn't 
talk  so  much!  I  wish  you'd  let  me  tell  you." 

"I  guess  you  ain't  got  anything  to  tell,"  said  Peaches, 
folding  her  arms  and  tilting  her  chin  so  high  Mickey  feared 
she  might  topple  backward. 

"I  guess  I  have!"  shouted  Mickey.     "7  didn't  put  that 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  507 

there!  I  didn't  mean  it  to  be  there!  If  I'd  a-put  it  there, 
and  meant  it  there,  and  knowed  it  would  be  there,  it  would 
a-been  about  you,  of  course!  Answer  me  this,  Miss.  Any 
single  time  did  I  ever  not  do  anything  that  I  said  I  would?" 

"Nothing  but  this,"  admitted  Peaches. 

"There  you  go  again!"  said  Mickey.  "I  tell  you  I 
'didn't  do  this,  and  when  I  tell  you,  I  tell  true,  Miss,  get  that 
in  your  system.  If  you'd  let  me  explain  how  it  was,  you'd 
see  that  I  didn't  have  a  single  thing  to  do  with  it." 

Peaches  accomplished  a  shrug  that  was  wonderful,  and 
gazed  at  the  ceiling,  her  lips  closed.  Mickey  watched  her 
a  second,  then  he  began  softly:  " Flowersy-girl,  I  don't  see 
what  you  mean!  I  don't  know  why  you  act  like  this!  I 
don't  know  what's  to  have  a  tantrum  for,  when  I  didn't 
mean  it  to  be  there,  and  didn't  know  it  would  be  there. 
Honest,  I  don't!" 

"Go  on  an'  read  it!"  she  commanded. 

Mickey  obeyed.  As  he  finished  she  faced  him  in  won- 
der. 

"Why  they  ain't  a  damn  bit  of  sense  to  it!"  she  cried. 

"Course  there  ain't!"  agreed  Mickey.  "Course  there 
would  be  no  sense  to  anything  that  wasn't  about  you  /" 

"Then  what  did  you  put  it  there  in  my  place  for?" 

"I  didn't!     I'm  trying  to  tell  you!"  persisted  Mickey. 

Peaches  shed  one  degree  of  royal  hauteur.  "Well  why 
don't  you  go  on  an'  tell,  then  ? " 

"  Aw-w-ah !  Well  if  you  don't  maneuver  to  beat  a  mono- 
plane! I've  tried  to  tell  you,  and  you  won't  let  me.  If  you 
stop  me  again,  I'm  going  to  march  out  of  this  room  and 
stay  'til  you  bawl  your  eyes  red  for  me." 


508  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"If  you  go,  I'll  call  Junior!"  said  Peaches  instantly. 

"Well  go  on  and  call  him!" 

He  turned,  his  heart  throbbing,  his  eyes  burning  with  re- 
pressed tears,  the  big  gulp  in  his  throat  audible  to  Peaches, 
as  her  little  wail  was  to  him.  He  whirled  and  dropping  on 
his  knees  took  her  in  his  arms.  She  threw  hers  around  his 
neck,  buried  her  face  against  his  cheek,  and  they  cried  it 
out  together.  At  last  she  produced  a  bit  of  linen,  and 
mopped  Mickey's  eyes  and  face,  then  her  own.  While  still 
clinging  to  him  she  whispered:  "Mickey,  I:m  jus'  about 
dead  to  have  it  be  the  Herald,  an'  the  front  page,  an'  you, 
an'  not  about  me  /" 

" Flowersy-girl,  I'm  just  as  sorry  as  you  are,"  said 
Mickey.  "It  was  this  way:  I  was  just  crazy  over  things 
our  editor-man  did,  that  saved  our  dear  boss  and  the  lovely 
Moonshine  Lady  who  gave  you  your  Precious  Child  and 
her  Marling  old  Daddy'  from  such  awful  trouble  it  would 
just  a-killed  them;  honest  it  would  Lily!  When  our  edi- 
tor-man was  so  great  and  nice,  and  did  what  he  didn't  want 
to  at  all,  I  went  sort  of  wild  like,  and  when  I  was  off  for  the 
day  and  got  on  the  streets,  everything  pulled  me  his  way. 
I  was  anxious  just  to  see  him  again,  and  if  I'd  done  what  I 
wanted  to,  I'd  a-gone  in  the  Herald  office  and  knelt  down, 
and  said:  'Thank  you,  oh  thank  you!'  and  kissed  his  feet, 
but  of  course  I  knew  men  didn't  do  like  that,  and  it  would 
have  shamed  him,  but  I  had  to  do  something  or  bust,  and  I 
went  running  for  the  office  like  flying,  and  my  mind  got 
whirling  around,  and  that  stuff  began  to  come. 

"I  slipped  in  and  back  to  his  desk,  like  I  may  if  I  want 
to,  and  there  he  sat.  He  had  a  big  white  sheet  just  like 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  509 

this  before  it  is  printed,  spread  out,  and  a  pencil  in  his 
fingers,  and  about  a  dozen  of  his  best  men  were  crowding 
'round  with  what  they  had  for  the  paper  to-day.  I've 
told  you  how  they  do  it,  often,  and  when  I  edged  up  some 
of  the  men  saw  me.  They  knew  I  had  a  pass  to  him,  so 
they  stepped  back  just  as  he  said:  'Well  boys,  who's  got 
some  big  stuff  to  fill  the  space  of  our  departed  scoop?' 
That  'departed'  word  means  lost,  gone,  and  it's  what  they 
say  about  people  when  they — they  go  for  good.  Then  he 
looked  up  to  see  who  would  speak  first,  and  noticed  me. 
'Oh  there  is  the  little  villain  who  scooped  our  scoop,  right 
now,'  he  said.  'Let's  make  him  fill  the  space  he's  cut  us 
out  of.'  I  thought  it  was  a  joke,  but  I  wasn't  going  to 
have  all  that  bunch  of  the  swellest  smarties  who  work  for 
him  put  it  clear  over  me;  I've  kidded  back  with  my  paper 
men  too  long  for  that;  so  I  stepped  back  and  shot  it  at  him, 
that  what's  printed  there,  and  when  I  got  to  the  end  and 
invited  the  fellows  to  'Whoop,'  Lily,  you  could  a-heard 
them  a  mile.  I  saw  they  was  starting  for  me,  so  I  just 
slung  in  a  'Thank  you  something  awful,  boss,'  and  ducked 
through  and  between,  and  cut  for  life;  'cause  if  they'd  a-got 
me,  I  might  a-been  there  yet.  They  are  the  nicest  men  on 
earth,  but  they  get  a  little  keyed  up  sometimes,  and  a  kid 
like  me  couldn't  keep  even.  Now  that's  all  there  is  to  it, 
Lily,  honest,  cross  my  heart!  I  didn't  know  they  would 
put  it  there.  I  didn't  know  they  thought  it  was  good 
enough.  I  wouldn't  a-let  them  for  the  life  of  them,  if  I'd 
known  they  was  going  to." 

"You  jus'  said  it  once,  Mickey?"  inquired  Peaches. 

"Jus'  once,  Flowersy-girl,  fast  as  I  could  rattle." 


510  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"  It's  twice  as  long  as  mine  ever  are,"  she  said.  "  I  don't 
see  how  they  'membered." 

"Oh  that!"  cried  Mickey.  "Why  honey,  that's  easy! 
Those  fellows  jump  on  to  a  thing  like  chained  lightning, 
and  they  got  a  way  of  writing  that  is  just  a  lot  of  little 
twists  and  curls,  but  one  means  a  whole  sentence — they 
call  it  'shorthand ' — and  doing  that  way,  they  can  set  down 
talk  as  fast  as  anybody  can  speak,  and  there  were  a  dozen 
of  them  there  with  pencils  and  paper  in  their  fingers.  That 
wasn't  anything  for  them!" 

"Mickey,  are  you  going  to  learn  to  write  that  way?" 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "Before  I  go  to  the  Herald  to 
take  my  desk,  and  my  "signment,'  I've  got  to  know,  and 
you  ought  to  know  too;  'cause  I  always  have  to  bring 
what  I  write  to  you  first,  to  see  if  you  like  it." 

"Yes,  if  the  mean  old  things  don't  go  an'  steal  my  place 
again,  when  you  don't  know  it,"  protested  Peaches. 

"Well,  don't  you  fret  about  that,"  said  Mickey.  "They 
got  away  with  me  this  time,  but  they  won't  ever  again, 
'cause  I'll  be  on  to  their  tricks.  See?  Now  say  you  for- 
give me,  and  eat  your  dinner,  'cause  it  will  be  spoiled,  and 
you  must  have  a  good  rest,  for  there's  going  to  be  some- 
thing lovely  afterward.  You  ain't  mad  at  me  any  more, 
Lily?" 

"No,  I  ain't  mad  at  you,  but  I'm  just  so " 

"Wope!  wope!"  cautioned  Mickey. 

Peaches  pulled  away  indignantly. 

" — so — so — so  estremely  mad  at  those  paper  men! 
Mickey,  I  don't  think  I'll  ever  let  you  be  a  Herald  man 
at  all  if  they're  going  to  leave  me  out  like  that!" 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  Sn 

"What  do  you  care  about  an  old  paper  sold  on  the 
streets,  and  ground  up  for  buckets,  and  used  to  start  fires, 
anyway?"  scoffed  Mickey.  "Why  don't  you  sit  up  on 
the  shelf  in  a  nice  pretty  silk  dress  and  be  a  book  lady?  I 
wouldn't  be  in  the  papers  at  all,  if  I  were  you." 

"No,  an'  I  won't,  either!"  cried  Peaches  instantly. 
"Take  the  old  paper  an'  put  what  you  please  in  it.  I  shall 
have  all  about  me  in  the  nice  silky  covered  book  on  the 
shelf;  so  there,  you  needn't  try  to  make  me  do  anything 
else,  'cause  I  shan't  ever!" 

"Course  you  shan't!"  agreed  Mickey. 

He  went  back  to  the  dinner  table  to  find  the  family 
finished  and  gone.  He  carried  what  had  been  left  for  him 
to  the  back  porch,  and  eating  hastily  began  helping  to  get 
things  in  place.  As  always  he  went  to  Mrs.  Harding  for 
orders.  She  was  a  little  woman,  so  very  like  his  mother  in 
size,  colouring,  speech,  and  manner,  that  Mickey  could  al- 
most forget  she  was  not  truly  his,  when  every  hour  she 
made  him  feel  her  motherly  kindness;  so  from  early  habit 
it  was  natural  with  him  to  seek  her  first,  and  do  what  he 
could  to  assist  her  before  he  attempted  anything  else.  All 
the  help  Peter  had  from  him  came  when  he  found  no  more 
to  do  for  Mrs.  Harding.  As  he  washed  the  dishes  while  she 
sat  sewing  for  the  renovation  of  the  house,  he  said  to  her: 
"When  you  dress  Lily  for  this  afternoon  I  wish  you'd  make 
her  just  as  pretty  as  you  can,  and  put  her  very  nicest  dress 
on  her." 

"Why  Mickey,  is  some  one  coming?"  she  asked. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Mickey,  "but  I  have  a  hunch  that 
my  boss,  and  Miss  Leslie,  and  her  father  may  be  out  this 


512  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

afternoon.  They  have  been  talking  about  it  a  long  time, 
but  I  kept  making  every  excuse  I  could  think  up  to  keep 
them  away." 

"Why,  Mickey?"  asked  Mrs.  Harding,  looking  at  him 
intently.  She  paused  in  her  sewing,  running  the  needle 
slowly  across  the  curtain  material. 

"Well,  for  a  lot  of  reasons,"  said  Mickey.  "A  fellow 
of  my  size  doesn't  often  tackle  a  family,  and  when  he  does, 
if  he's  going  to  be  square  about  it,  he  has  got  to  do  a  lot  of 
thinking.  One  thing  was  that  it's  hard  for  me  to  get  Lily 
out  of  my  head  like  I  first  saw  her.  I  guess  I  couldn't  tell 
you  so  you'd  get  a  fair  idea  of  how  dark,  dirty,  alone,  and 
little,  and  miserable  she  was.  Just  with  all  my  heart  I  was 
ashamed  of  her  folks,  and  sick  sorry  for  her;  but  I  can't 
bear  for  anybody  else  to  be!  I  didn't  want  any  of  them  to 
see  her  'til  she  was  fed,  and  fatted  up  a  lot,  and  trained  'til 
how  nice  she  really  is  shows  plain.  It  just  hurt  me  to 
think  of  it." 

"Um-m-uh!"  agreed  Mrs.  Harding,  differing  emotions 
showing  on  her  face.  "I  see,  Mickey." 

"Then,"  continued  Mickey,  "I'm  sticking  sore  and 
mean  on  one  point.  I  did  find  her!  She  is  mine!  I  am 
going  to  keep  her!  Nobody  in  all  this  world  takes  her,  nor 
God  in  Heaven!" 

"Mickey,  be  careful  what  you  say,"  she  cautioned. 

"I  don't  mean  anything  wicked,"  explained  Mickey. 
"I'm  just  telling  you  that  nobody  on  earth  can  have  her, 
and  I'd  fight  'til  I'd  die  with  her,  before  even  Heaven  gets 
her.  I  don't  mean  anything  ugly  about  it.  I'm  just 
telling  you  friendly  like,  how  I  feel  about  her." 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  513 

"I  see  Mickey,"  said  Mrs.  Harding.     "Go  on!" 

"Well,  lots  of  reasons,"  said  Mickey.  "She  wasn't 
used  to  folks,  so  they  scared  her.  She  was  crazy  with  fear 
about  the  Orphings'  Home  getting  her,  while  I  wasn't  any 
too  sure  myself.  I  flagged  one  Swell  Dame,  and  like  to 
got  caught  in  a  trap  and  lost  her.  Then  my  Sunshine 
Nurse  helped  me  all  I  needed;  so  not  knowing  how  much 
women  were  alike,  I  didn't  care  to  go  rushing  in  a  lot  on 
Lily  just  to  find  out.  She  was  a  little  too  precious  to  ex- 
periment with. 

"That  Home  business  has  been  a  big,  grinning,  'Get- 
you-any-minute  devil,'  peeping  'round  the  corner  at  me 
ever  since  mother  went.  I  could  dodge  him  for  myself, 
but  I  couldn't  take  any  risks  for  Lily.  These  Orphings' 
Homes  ain't  no  place  for  children.  'Stead  of  the  law  build- 
ing them,  and  penning  the  little  souls  starving  for  home 
and  love  in  them,  what  it  should  do  is  to  make  people  who 
pay  the  money  to  run  them,  take  the  children  in  their  own 
homes  and  love  and  raise  them  personal.  If  every  family 
in  the  world  that  has  no  children  would  take  two,  and  them 
that  has  would  take  just  one,  all  the  Orphings'  Homes 
would  make  good  hospitals  and  schools;  while  the  orphings 
would  be  fixed  like  Lily  and  I  are.  Course  I  know  all  folks 
ain't  the  same  as  you  and  Peter;  but  in  the  long  run,  chil- 
dren are  safer  in  homes  than  they  are  in  squads.  'Most  any 
kind  of  a  home  beats  no  home  at  all.  You  can  stake  your 
liberty-birds  on  that." 

"You  surely  can,"  agreed  Mrs.  Harding. 

"You  just  bet,"  persisted  Mickey.  "When  I  didn't 
know  what  they  would  do,  I  didn't  want  them  pestering 


514  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

'round,  maybe  to  ruin  everything;  and  when  I  did,  I  didn't 
•want  them  any  more,  'cause  then  I  saw  their  idea  would  be 
to  take  her  themselves,  and  in  one  day  they  would  a-made 
all  I  could  do  look  like  thirty  cents.  She  was  mine,  and 
what  she  had  with  me  was  so  much  better  than  what  she 
would  a-had  without  me,  or  if  the  law  got  her,  that  I 
thought  she  was  doing  well  enough.  I  see  now  she  could 
a-had  more;  but  I  thought  then  it  was  all  right!" 

"Now  Mickey,  don't  begin  that,"  said  Mrs.  Harding. 
"What  you  did  was  to  find  her,  and  without  a  doubt,  save 
her  life;  at  least  if  you  didn't,  you  landed  her  in  a  fairly 
decent  home  where  all  of  us  will  help  you  do  what  you 
think  best  for  her;  and  there's  small  question  but  we  can 
beat  any  Orphans'  Home  yet  in  existence.  And  as  for 
the  condition  in  which  I  found  her,  it  was  growing  warm 
in  that  room,  but  I'll  face  any  court  in  the  universe  and 
swear  I  never  saw  a  cleaner  child,  or  one  in  better  condi- 
tion for  what  you  had  to  begin  on.  The  Almighty  Him- 
self couldn't  have  covered  those  awful  bones  with  flesh 
and  muscle,  and  smoothed  the  bed  sores  and  scars  from 
that  little  body;  and  gone  much  faster  training  her  right, 
unless  He  was  going  back  to  miracles  again.  As  far  as 
miracles  are  concerned,  I  think  from  what  you  tell  me, 
and  what  the  child's  condition  proves,  that  you  have 
performed  the  miracle  yourself.  To  the  day  of  my  death 
I'll  honour,  respect,  and  love  you,  Mickey,  for  the  way 
in  which  you've  done  it.  I've  yet  to  see  a  woman  who 
could  have  done  better,  so  I  want  you  to  know  it." 

"I  don't  know  the  right  words  to  say  to  you  and  Peter." 
"Never  mind  that,"  said  Mrs.  Harding.     "We  owe  you 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  515 

quite  as  much,  and  something  we  are  equally  as  thankful 
for.  It's  an  even  break  with  us,  Mickey,  and  no  talk  of 
obligations  on  either  side.  We  prize  Junior  as  he  is  just 
now,  fully  as  much  as  you  do  anything  you've  gained." 

Mickey  polished  the  plates  and  studied  Mrs.  Harding. 
Then  he  spoke  again:  "There's  one  more  obligation  I'm 
just  itching  to  owe  you." 

"Tell  me  about  it,  Mickey,"  she  said. 

"Well  right  in  line  with  what  we  been  talking  of,"  said 
Mickey.  "Just  suppose  a  big  car  comes  chuffing  up  here 
this  afternoon,  like  I  have  a  hunch  it  will,  and  all  those 
nice  folks  so  polite  and  beautifully  dressed  come  to  see  us, 
I  know  you  are  busy,  but  I'll  work  afterward  to  pay  back, 
if  you  and  Peter  will  dust  up  a  little — course  I  know  the 
upset  fix  we  are  in;  but  just  glorify  a  trifle,  and  lay  off  and 
keep  right  on  the  job  without  a  second  of  letting  up,  'til  they 
are  gone.  See?" 

"You  mean  you  don't  want  to  be  left  alone  with  them?" 

"You  get  me!"  cried  Mickey.  "You  get  me  clearly. 
I  don't  want  to  be  left  alone  with  them,  for  them  to  put 
ideas  in  Lily's  head  about  a  nicer  car  than  ours,  and  a 
bigger  house,  and  finer  dolls  and  dresses,  and  going  to  the 
city  to  stay  with  them  on  visits;  or  me  going  to  live  with 
Mr.  Winton,  to  be  the  son  he  should  have  found  for  him- 
self long  ago.  I  guess  I  have  Lily  sized  up  about  as  close 
as  the  next  one;  and  she  has  got  all  that  is  good  for  her, 
right  now.  She'd  make  the  worst  spoiled  kid  you  ever 
saw  if  she  had  half  a  chance.  What  she  needs  to  make 
a  grand  woman  of  her,  like  you  and  mother,  is  clean  air, 
quiet,  good  food  like  she's  got  here,  with  bone  as  well  as 


Si6  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

muscle  in  it;  and  just  enough  lessons  and  child  play  with 
children  to  keep  her  brains  going  ac  fast  as  her  body,  and 
no  silly  pampering  to  make  her  foolish  and  disagreeable. 
I  know  how  little  and  sick  she  is,  but  she  shan't  use  it  for 
capital  to  spoil  her  whole  life.  See?" 

'Through  a  glass  darkly/"  quoted  Mrs.  Harding 
laughing.  "Oh  Mickey,  I  didn't  think  it  of  you.  You're 
deeper  than  the  well." 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Mickey,  his  face  flushing. 
"Often  I  hear  you  say  'let  good  enough  alone.'  My  senti- 
ments exact.  Lily  is  fine,  and  so  am  I.  Let  us  alone! 
If  you  and  Peter  will  do  me  the  'cap-sheaf  favour,  as 
he  would  say,  you'll  dust  up  and  spunk  up,  and  the  very 
first  hint  that  comes — 'cause  it's  coming — at  the  very 
first  hint  of  how  Miss  Leslie  would  love  to  take  care  of 
the  dear  little  darling  awhile,  smash  down  with  the  nix! 
Smash  like  sixty!  Keep  your  eyes  and  ears  open,  and  if 
you  could,  dearest  lady,  beat  them  to  it:  I'd  be  tickled 
silly  if  you  manage  that.  If  you  could  only  tell  them  how 
careful  she  has  to  be  handled,  and  taken  care  of,  and  how 
strangers  and  many  around  would  be  bad  for  her— 

"Mickey,  the  minute  they  see  the  shape  things  are  in 
here,  it  will  give  them  the  chance  they  are  after,  so  they 
will  begin  that  very  thing,"  she  said. 

"I  know  it,"  conceded  Mickey.  "That's  why  I'd 
put  them  off  if  I  could,  'til  we  were  fixed  and  quiet  again. 
But  at  that,  their  chance  isn't  so  grand.  This  isn't  worry- 
ing Lily  any.  She  saw  all  of  it  happen,  sh*  knows  what's 
going  on.  What  I  want,  dearest  /ady,  is  for  you  to  get  on 
the  job,  and  spunk  up  to  them,  just  like  you  did  about 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  '517 

Junior  going  away.  I  didn't  think  you'd  get  through  with 
that,  and  I  know  Peter  didn't;  but  you  did,  fine!  Now  if 
you  and  Peter  would  have  a  little  private  understanding 
and  engineer  this  visit  that  I  scent  in  the  air,  so  that  when 
you  see  they  are  going  to  offer  pressing  invitations  to  take 
Lily,  and  to  take  me,  and  put  me  at  work  that  I  wasn't 
born  to  do;  if  you'd  only  have  a  receiver  out,  and  when 
your  wires  warn  you  what's  coming  down  the  line,  first 
and  beforehand,  calm  and  plain,  fix  things  so  the  nix 
wouldn't  even  be  needed;  do  you  get  me,  dearest  Mother 
Harding,  do  you  see?" 

"That  I  do!"  said  Mrs.  Harding  rising  abruptly.  "I'll 
go  and  speak  to  Peter  at  once,  then  we'll  shift  these  work- 
men back,  and  quiet  them  as  much  as  we  can.  I'll  slip 
on  a  fresh  dress,  and  put  some  buttermilk  in  the  well,  and 
fix  Peaches  right  away,  if  she's  finished  her  nap — 

Mrs.  Harding's  voice  trailed  back  telling  what  she 
would  do  as  she  hastened  to  Peter.  Mickey,  with  anxious 
heart,  helped  all  he  could,  washed,  slipped  on  a  fresh 
shirt,  and  watched  the  process  of  adjusting  Peaches'  hair 
ribbon. 

"Now  understand,  I  don't  know  they're  coming,"  he 
said.  "I  just  think  they  will." 

Because  he  thought  so,  for  an  hour  the  Harding  prem- 
ises wore  a  noticeable  air  of  expectation.  All  the  family 
were  clean  and  purposely  keeping  so;  but  the  waiting  was 
long,  while  work  was  piled  high  in  any  direction.  Peaches 
started  the  return  to  normal  conditions  by  calling  for  her 
slate,  and  beginning  to  copy  her  lesson.  Mary  with  many 
promises  not  to  scatter  her  scraps,  sat  beside  the  couch, 


5i8  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

cutting  bright  pictures  from  the  papers.  Mickey  grew 
restless  and  began  breaking  up  the  remains  of  packing 
cases,  while  Junior  went  after  the  wheelbarrow.  Mrs. 
Harding  brought  out  her  sewing,  and  Peter  went  back  to 
scraping  black  walnut  furniture.  Mickey  passed  him  on 
an  errand  to  the  kitchen  and  asked  anxiously:  "Did  she 
tell  you?" 

"Yes,"  said  Peter. 

"Will  you  make  it  a  plain  case  of  'nobody  home!  no- 
body home?'"  questioned  Mickey. 

"I  will!"  said  Peter  emphatically. 

Being  busy,  the  big  car  ran  to  the  gate  before  they  saw 
it  coming.  Leslie  Winton  and  Douglas  Bruce  came  up 
the  walk  together,  while  Mr.  Winton  and  Mrs.  Minturn 
waited  in  the  car,  in  accordance  with  a  suggestion  from 
Douglas  that  the  little  sick  girl  must  not  see  too  many 
strange  people  at  once.  Mickey  went  to  meet  them,  and 
Peaches  watching,  half  in  fear  and  wholly  in  pride,  saw 
Douglas  Bruce  shake  his  hand  until  she  frowned  lest  it 
hurt,  clap  him  on  the  back,  and  cry:  "Oh  but  I'm  proud 
of  you!  Say  that  was  great!" 

Leslie  purposely  dressed  to  emphasize  her  beauty, 
slipped  an  arm  across  his  shoulders  and  drawing  him  to 
her  kissed  his  brow. 

"Our  poet!"  she  said.  "Oh  Mickey,  hurry!  I'm  so 
eager  to  hear  the  ones  in  the  book  Douglas  tells  me  you 
are  making!  Won't  you  please  read  them  to  us?" 

Mickey  smiled  as  he  led  the  way.  "Just  nonsense 
stuff  for  Lily,"  he  said.  "Nothing  but  fooling,  only  the 
prayer  one,  and  maybe  two  others." 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  519 

An  abrupt  movement  from  Peaches  as  they  advanced 
made  Mrs.  Harding  glance  her  way  in  time  to  see  the 
first  wave  of  deep  colour  that  ever  had  flooded  the  child's 
white  face,  come  creeping  up  her  neck  and  begin  tinging 
her  cheeks,  even  her  forehead.  With  a  swift  movement 
she  snatched  her  poetry  book,  which  always  lay  with  her 
slate  and  primer,  thrusting  it  under  her  pillow;  when  she 
saw  Mrs.  Harding  watching  her  she  tilted  her  head  and 
pursed  her  lips  in  scorn:  "'Our!'"she  mimicked.  "'Our!' 
Wonder  whose  she  thinks  he  is?  Nix  on  her!" 

Mrs.  Harding,  caught  surprisedly,  struggled  to  sup- 
press a  laugh  as  she  turned  to  meet  her  guests.  Mickey 
noticed  this.  He  made  his  introductions,  and  swiftly 
thrust  Peaches'  Precious  Child  into  her  arms,  warning 
in  a  whisper:  "  You  be  careful,  Miss!" 

Peaches  needed  the  reminder.  She  loved  the  doll. 
She  had  been  drilled  so  often  on  the  thanks  she  was  to 
tender  for  it,  that  with  it  in  her  fingers  she  thought  of 
nothing  else,  so  her  smile  as  Leslie  approached  was  lovely. 
She  held  out  her  hand  and  before  Mickey  could  speak 
announced:  "Jus'  as  glad  to  see  you!  Thank  you  ever 
so  much  for  my  Precious  Child!" 

Nothing  more  was  necessary.  Leslie  was  captivated 
and  would  scarcely  make  way  for  Douglas  to  offer  his 
greeting.  Mary  ran  to  call  her  father,  while  the  visitors 
seated  themselves  to  say  the  customary  polite  things;  but 
each  of  them  watched  a  tiny  white-clad  creature,  with 
pink  ribbons  to  match  the  colour  in  a  flawless  little  face, 
rounded  to  the  point  of  delicate  beauty,  overshadowed 
by  a  shower  of  gold  curls,  having  red  lips  and  lighted  by  a 


520  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

pair  of  big,  blue-gray  eyes  with  long  dark  lashes.  When 
Mrs.  Harding  saw  both  visitors  look  so  intently  at  Peaches, 
and  intercepted  their  glance  of  admiration  toward  each 
other,  she  looked  again  herself,  and  then  once  more. 

Peaches  spoke  imperiously.  "  Mickey-lovest,  come 
here  and  bend  down  your  head." 

Mickey  slipped  behind  Douglas'  chair,  knelt  on  one 
knee,  and  leaned  to  see  what  Peaches  desired  of  him. 
She  drew  her  handkerchief  from  her  waist  ribbon,  rubbed 
it  across  his  forehead,  looked  at  the  spot  with  frowning 
intentness,  rubbed  again,  and  then  dropping  the  hand- 
kerchief, laid  a  hand  on  each  side  of  his  head,  bent  it 
to  her  and  kissed  the  spot  fervently;  then  she  looked  him 
in  the  eyes  and  said  with  solicitous  but  engaging  sweet- 
ness: "Mickey,  I  do  wish  you  would  be  more  careful  what 
you  get  on  your  face!" 

Mickey  drew  back  thrilled  with  delight,  but  extremely 
embarrassed.  "Aw-a-ah  you  fool  little  kid ! "  he  muttered, 
and  could  not  look  at  his  friends. 

Watching,  Douglas  almost  shouted,  while  the  flush 
deepened  on  Miss  Winton's  cheeks.  Peter  began  talking 
to  help  the  situation,  so  all  of  them  joined  in. 

"You  are  making  improvements  that  look  very  inter- 
esting around  here,"  said  Douglas  to  Mrs.  Harding. 

"We  are  doing  our  level  best  to  evolve  a  sanitary,  mod- 
ern home  for  all  of  us,  and  to  set  an  example  for  our  neigh- 
bours," she  said  quietly.  "We  always  got  along  very 
well  as  we  were,  but  lately,  we  have  found  we  could  have 
things  much  more  convenient,  and  when  God  gave  us  two 
more  dear  children,  we  needed  room  for  them,  and  com- 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  521 

forts  and  appliances  to  take  care  of  our  little  new  daughter 
right.  When  we  got  started,  one  thing  led  to  another 
until  we  are  pretty  well  torn  up;  but  we've  saved  the  best 
place  for  her,  and  the  worst  is  over." 

"Yes  we  are  on  the  finish  now,"  said  Peter. 

"I  did  think  of  taking  her  and  going  to  my  sister's," 
continued  Mrs.  Harding,  "but  Peaches  isn't  accustomed 
to  meeting  people,  while  Mickey  and  I  both  thought 
being  among  strangers  and  changing  beds  and  food  would 
be  worse  for  her  than  the  annoyance  of  remodelling;  then 
too,  I  wanted  very  much  to  see  the  work  here  done  as  I 
desired.  At  first  I  was  doubtful  about  keeping  her,  but 
she  doesn't  mind  in  the  least;  she  even  takes  her  afternoon 
naps  with  hammers  pounding  not  so  far  from  her — 

"Gee,  there  is  no  noise  and  jar  here  to  compare  with 
Multiopolis,"  said  Mickey.  "She's  all  right,  getting 
stronger  every  day." 

Peaches  spread  both  hands,  looking  at  them  critically, 
back  and  palm. 

"They  are  better,"  she  said.  "You  ought  to  seen  them 
when  they  was  so  clawy  they  made  Mickey  shiver  if  I 
touched  him;  and  first  time  I  wanted  to  kiss  something  or 
go  like  granny  did,  he  wouldn't  let  me  'til  I  cried,  an'  then 
he  made  me  put  it  on  his  forehead  long  time,  'til  I  got  so 
the  bones  didn't  scratch  him;  didn't  you  Mickey?" 

"Well  I  wish  you  wouldn't  tell  everything!" 

"Then  I  won't,"  said  Peaches,  "'cause  I'm  your  fam'ly, 
an'  I  must  do  what  you  say;  an'  you  are  my  fam'ly,  an' 
you  must  do  what  /  say.  Are  you  a  fam'ly?"  she  ques- 
tioned Leslie  and  Douglas. 


522  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"We  hope  to  be  soon,"  laughed  Leslie. 

"Then,"  said  Peaches,  "you  can  look  how  we're  fixing 
our  house  so  you  can  make  yours  nice  as  this.  Mickey, 
I  want  to  show  that  pretty  lady  in  the  auto'bile  my  Pre- 
cious Child." 

"Sure!"  said  Mickey.  "I'll  go  tell  her.  And  the  man 
with  her  is  Miss  Leslie's  father,  just  like  Peter  is  ours;  you 
want  to  show  him  the  Child,  don't  your" 

"Ma"be!"  said  Peaches  with  a  tantalizing  smirk. 

"Miss  Chicken,  you're  getting  well  too  fast,"  com- 
mented Mickey  in  amazement  as  he  started  to  the 
car. 

Because  of  what  Mr.  Winton  had  said  to  him  the  previous 
day,  he  composed  and  delivered  this  greeting  when  he 
reached  it :  "Lily  is  asking  to  show  you  her  Precious  Child, 
Mrs.  Minturn,  and  I  want  both  of  you  to  see  our  home,  and 
meet  our  new  father  and  mother.  Letting  us  have  them 
is  one  thing  the  law  does  that  makes  up  a  little  for  the 
Orphings'  Homes  most  kids  get  who  have  had  the  bad  luck 
to  lose  their  own  folks." 

"Mickey,  are  you  prejudiced  against  Orphans'  Homes?" 
asked  Mrs.  Minturn  as  she  stepped  from  the  car. 

"Ain't  no  name  for  it,"  said  Mickey.  "I'm  dead  against 
bunching  children  in  squads.  If  rich  folks  want  to  do 
something  worth  while  with  their  money,  they  can  do  it 
by  each  family  taking  as  many  orphings  as  they  can  afford, 
and  raising  them  personal.  See?" 

"I  should  £ay  I  do!"  exclaimed  the  lady.  "I  must 
speak  to  James  about  that.  We  have  two  of  our  own,  and 
William,  but  I  believe  we  could  manage  a  few  more." 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  523 

"I  know  one  I'd  like  very  much  to  try,"  said  Mr.  Win- 
ton,  but  Mickey  never  appeared  so  unconscious. 

He  managed  his  introductions  very  well,  while  again 
Peaches  justified  her  appellation  by  being  temptingly 
sweet  and  conspicuously  acid.  When  Mickey  reached 
Peter  in  his  round  of  making  friends  acquainted,  he  slid  his 
arm  through  that  of  the  big  man  and  said  smilingly: 
"Nobody  is  going  to  mix  me  with  Peter's  son  by  blood- 
see  what  a  fine  chap  Junior  is;  but  Peter  and  I  fixed  up  my 
sonship  with  the  Almighty,  whom  my  Peter  didn't  deny, 
when  he  took  me  in,  and  with  the  judge  of  the  Multiopolis 
courts;  so  even  if  it  doesn't  show  on  the  outside,  I  belong, 
don't  I?" 

Peter  threw  his  left  arm  around  Mickey  even  as  he 
shook  hands  with  his  right:  "You  surely  do,"  he  said,  "by 
law  and  by  love,  to  the  bottom  of  all  our  hearts." 

The  visit  was  a  notable  success.  The  buttermilk  was 
cold,  the  spice  cake  was  fresh,  the  apples  and  peaches  were 
juicy,  the  improvements  highly  commendable.  Peter  was 
asked  if  he  would  consider  a  membership  in  the  Golf  Club, 
the  playhouse  was  discussed,  and  three  hours  later  a  group 
of  warm  friends  parted,  with  the  agreement  that  Mickey 
was  to  spend  a  day  of  the  latter  part  of  the  week  fishing 
on  Atwater. 

The  Hardings  smiled  broadly.  "Well  son,  did  we  man- 
age that  to  your  satisfaction?"  asked  Peter. 

"  Sure ! "  said  Mickey.  "  I  might  have  been  mistaken  in 
what  half  of  that  trip  was  for,  but  I  think  not." 

"So  do  I,"  said  Mrs.  Harding  emphatically.  "They 
were  just  itching  to  get  their  fingers  on  Peaches;  while 


524  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

Bruce  and  Mr.  Winton  both  were  chagrined  over  our  get- 
ting you  first." 

"We  feel  bad  about  that  too,  don't  we,  Peter?"  laughed 
Mickey. 

"Well,  I  would,"  said  Peter,  "if  it  were  the  other  way 
around.  I  didn't  mind  the  young  fellow.  You'll  be  with 
him  every  day,  and  he'll  soon  have  boys  of  his  own  no 
doubt;  but  I  feel  sorry  for  Mr.  Winton.  He  looks  hungry 
when  he  watches  you.  He  could  work  you  into  his  busi- 
ness fine." 

"He's  all  right,  he's  a  nice  man,"  said  Mickey,  "but  I've 
lived  off  the  Herald  all  my  life  'til  this  summer,  so  when 
school  is  over  I  go  straight  to  Mr.  ChafFner." 

The  Winton  car  ran  to  the  club  house;  sitting  in  a  group, 
the  occupants  looked  at  each  other  rather  foolishly. 

"Seems  to  me  you  were  going  to  bring  Peaches  right 
along,  if  you  liked  her,  Leslie,"  laughed  Douglas. 

"The  little  vixen!"  she  said  flushing. 

"Sorry  you  didn't  care  for  her,"  he  commented. 

" It  is  a  pity ! "  said  Leslie.  "  But  I  didn't '  miss  bringing 
her  along'  any  farther  than  Mrs.  Minturn  missed  taking 
her  to  the  hospital  to  be  examined  and  treated!" 

"I'll  have  to  go  again  about  that,"  said  Mrs.  Minturn. 
"I  just  couldn't  seem  to  get  at  it,  someway." 

"No,  you  'just  couldn't  seem  to,'"  agreed  Douglas. 
"And  Mr.  Winton  'just  couldn't  seem  to'  lay  covetous 
hands  on  Mickey,  and  bear  him  away  to  be  his  assistant 
any  more  than  I  could  force  him  to  be  my  Little  Brother. 
I  hope  all  of  us  have  a  realizing  sense  that  we  are  permitted 
to  be  good  and  loyal  friends;  but  we  will  kindly  leave 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  525 

Mickey  to  make  his  own  arrangements,  and  work  out  his' 
own  salvation,  and  that  of  his  child.  And  Leslie,  I  didn't 
hear  you  offering  to  buy  any  of  the  quaint  dishes  and  old 
furniture  you  hoped  you  might  pick  up  there,  either." 

"Heavens!"  cried  Leslie  half  tearfully.  "How  would 
any  one  go  about  offering  to  buy  an  old  platter  that  was 
wrapped  in  a  silk  shawl  and  kept  in  the  dresser  drawer 
during  repairs,  or  ask  a  man  to  set  a  price  on  old  furniture, 
when  he  was  scraping  off  the  varnish  of  generations,  and 
showing  you  wood  grain  and  colouring  with  the  pride  of 
a  veteran  collector?  I  feel  so  silly!  Let's  play  off  our 
chagrin,  and  then  we'll  be  in  condition  for  friendship  which 
is  the  part  that  falls  to  us,  if  I  understand  Mickey." 

"Well  considering  the  taste  I've  had  of  the  quality  of  his 
friendship,  I  hope  you  won't  be  surprised  at  the  statement 
that  I  feel  highly  honoured,"  said  Mr.  Winton,  leading  the 
way,  while  the  others  thoughtfully  followed. 

With  four  days'  work  the  Harding  home  began  to  show 
what  was  being  accomplished.  The  song  of  the  house- 
wife carried  to  the  highway.  Neighbours  passing  went 
home  to  silent,  overworked  drudges,  and  critically  ex- 
amined for  the  first  time  stuffy,  dark  kitchens,  reeking 
with  steam,  heat,  and  the  odour  of  cooking  and  decorated 
with  the  grime  of  years.  The  little  leaven  of  one  home  in 
the  neighbourhood,  as  all  homes  should  be,  set  them  think- 
ing. A  week  had  not  passed  until  people  began  calling 
Mrs.  Harding  to  the  telephone  to  explain  just  what  she 
was  doing,  and  why.  Men  would  stop  to  ask  Peter  what 
was  going  on,  so  every  time  he  caught  a  victim,  he  never 
released  him  until  the  man  saw  sunrise  above  a  kitchen 


526  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

table,  a  line  in  the  basement  for  a  winter  wash,  kitchen  im- 
plements from  a  pot  scraper  and  food  pusher  to  a  gas 
range  and  electric  washing  machine,  with  a  furnace  and 
hardwood  floors  thrown  in.  Soon  the  rip  of  shovelled 
shingles,  the  sound  of  sawing,  and  the  ring  of  hammers 
filled  the  air. 

The  Harding  improvements  improved  so  fast,  that  sand, 
cement,  and  the  big  pile  of  lumber  began  accumulating  at 
Peter's  corner  of  the  crossroads  below  the  home,  for  the 
playhouse.  Men  who  started  by  calling  Peter  a  fool,  ended 
by  borrowing  his  plans  and  belabouring  themselves  for 
their  foolishness;  for  the  neighbourhood  was  awakening 
and  beginning  to  develop  a  settled  conviction  as  to  what 
constituted  the  joy  of  life,  and  that  the  place  to  enjoy  it 
was  at  home,  r.nd  the  time  immediately.  Peter's  reward 
was  not  only  in  renewed  happiness  for  himself  and  Nancy; 
equal  to  it  was  his  pleasure  over  the  same  renewal  for 
many  of  his  lifelong  friends. 

Mickey  started  on  his  day  to  Atwater  with  joyful  an- 
ticipation, but  he  jumped  from  Douglas*  car  and  ran  up 
the  Harding  front  walk  at  three  o'clock,  his  face  anxious. 
He  saw  the  Harding  car  at  the  gate,  and  wondered  at  Peter 
sitting  dressed  for  leisure  on  the  veranda. 

"Got  anxious  about  Lily,"  he  explained.  "Out  on  the 
lake  I  thought  I  heard  her  call  me,  then  I  had  the  notion 
she  was  crying  for  me.  They  laughed  at  me,  but  I 
couldn't  stand  it.  Is  she  asleep,  as  they  said  she'd  be?" 

Peter  opened  his  lips,  but  no  word  came.  Mickey  slowly 
turned  a  ghastly  white.  Peter  reached  in  his  side  pocket, 
drew  out  a  letter,  and  handed  it  to  the  boy.  Mickey 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  527 

pulled  the  sheet  from  the  envelope,  still  staring  at  Peter, 
then  glanced  at  what  he  held  and  collapsed  on  the  step. 
Peter  moved  beside  him,  laid  a  steadying  arm  across  his 
shoulders  and  proved  his  fear  was  as  great  as  Mickey's  by 
being  unable  to  speak.  At  last  the  boy  produced  articu- 
late words. 

"He  came  ?"  he  marvelled. 

"About  ten  this  morning,"  said  Peter. 

"He  took  her  to  the  hospital?"  panted  Mickey. 

"Yes,"  said  Peter. 

"Why  did  you  let  him?"  demanded  Mickey. 

That  helped  Peter.     He  indicated  the  letter. 

"There's  your  call  for  him!"  he  said,  emphatically. 
"You  asked  me  to  adopt  her  so  I  could  give  him  orders  to 
go  ahead  when  he  came." 

"Why  didn't  you  telephone  me?"  asked  Mickey. 

"I  did,"  said  Peter.  "The  woman  who  answered 
didn't  know  where  you  were,  but  she  said  their  car  had 
gone  to  town,  so  I  thought  maybe  they'd  find  you  there.  I 
was  just  going  to  call  them  again." 

"Was  she  afraid?"  wavered  Mickey. 

"Yes,  I  think  she  was,"  said  Peter. 

"Did  she  cry  for  me?"  asked  Mickey. 

"Yes  she  did,"  admitted  Peter,  who  hadn't  a  social  lie 
in  his  being,  "but  when  he  offered  to  put  off  the  examina- 
tion till  he  might  come  again,  she  climbed  from  the  cot  and 
made  him  take  her.  Ma  went  with  her." 

"The  Sunshine  Nurse  came?"  questioned  Mickey. 

"Yes,"  said  Peter,  "and  Mrs.  Minturn.  She  sent  for 
him  to  see  about  an  operation  on  a  child  she  is  trying  to 


528  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

save,  so  when  it  was  over,  he  showed  her  your  letter.  She 
brought  them  out  in  her  car,  and  Ma  went  back  with 
them." 

"She  may  be  on  that  glass  table  right  now,"  gulped 
Mickey.  "What  time  is  it?  When's  the  next  car?  Run 
me  to  the  station  will  you,  and  if  you've  got  any  money, 
let  me  have  it  'til  I  get  to  mine." 

"Of  course!"  said  Peter. 

"Will  Junior  and  Mary  be  all  right?"  asked  Mickey, 
pausing  in  his  extremity  to  think  of  others. 

"Yes,  they  often  stay  while  we  go." 

"Hurry!"  begged  Mickey. 

Peter  took  hold  of  the  gear  and  faced  straight  ahead. 

"She's  oiled,  the  tank  full,  the  engine  purring  like 
a  kitten,"  he  said.  "Mickey,  I  always  wanted  to  beat 
that  trolley  just  once,  to  show  it  I  could,  if  I  wasn't  loaded 
with  women  and  children.  Awful  nice  road •" 

"Go  on!  "said  Mickey. 

Peter  smiled,  sliding  across  the  starter. 

"Sit  tight!"  he  said  tersely. 

The  big  car  slipped  up  the  road  no  faster  than  it  had 
gone  frequently,  passed  the  station,  then  on  and  on; 
Mickey  twisted  to  look  back  at  the  rattle  of  the  trolley 
Stopping  behind  them,  watching  it  with  wishful  eye. 
Peter  opened  his  lips  to  say:  "Just  warmed  up  enough, 
and  an  even  start!" 

The  trolley  came  abreast  and  whistled.  Peter  bfew 
his  horn,  glancing  that  way  with  a  little  "come  on"  for- 
ward jerk  of  his  head.  The  motorman  nodded,  touched 
his  gear  and  the  car  started.  Peter  laid  prideful,  loving 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  529 

hands  on  his  machinery;  for  the  first  time  with  legitimate 
racing  excuse,  as  he  long  had  wished  to,  he  tried  out  his 
engine.  Mickey  could  see  the  faces  of  the  protesting  pas- 
sengers and  the  conductor  grinning  in  the  door,  but  Peter 
could  not  have  heard  if  he  had  tried  to  tell  him.  Flying 
it  was,  smooth  and  even,  past  fields,  orchards,  and  houses; 
past  people  who  cried  out  at  them  and  shook  their  fists. 
Mickey  looked  at  Peter  and  registered  for  life  each  line 
of  his  big  frame  and  lineament  of  his  face,  as  he  gripped 
the  gear  and  put  his  car  over  the  highway.  When 
they  reached  the  pavement,  Mickey  touched  Peter's  arm. 
"Won't  make  anything  by  getting  arrested,"  he  cautioned . 

"No  police  for  blocks  yet,"  said  Peter. 

"Well  there's  risk  of  life  and  damage  suit  at  each  cross- 
ing!" shouted  Mickey,  so  Peter  slowed  a  degree;  but  he 
was  miles  ahead  of  all  regulations  as  he  stopped  before  the 
gleaming  entrance.  Mickey  sprang  from  the  car  and  hur- 
ried up  the  steps.  Mrs.  Minturn  arose  from  a  seat  and 
came  to  meet  him. 

"Take  me  to  her  quick!"  begged  Mickey. 

Silently  she  led  the  way  to  her  suite  in  her  old  home,  and 
opened  the  door.  Mickey  had  a  glimpse  of  Mrs.  Harding, 
his  Sunshine  Nurse,  and  three  men,  one  of  whom  he  recog- 
nized from  reproductions  of  his  features  in  the  papers.  A 
very  white,  tired-looking  Peaches  stretched  both  hands 
and  uttered  a  shrill  cry  as  Mickey  appeared  in  the  door- 
way. His  answer  was  inarticulate  while  his  arms  spread 
widely.  Then  Peaches  arose,  and  in  a  few  shuffling  but 
sustained  steps  fell  on  his  breast,  gripping  him  with  all 
her  strength. 


530  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

"Oh  darling,  you'll  kill  yourself,"  wailed  Mickey. 

He  laid  her  on  the  davenport  and  knelt  clasping  her. 
Peaches  regained  self-control  first;  she  sat  up,  shamelessly 
wiping  Mickey's  eyes  and  her  own  alternately. 

" Flowersy-girl,  did  you  hurt  yourself  awful?" 

"I  know  something  I  won't  tell,"  chanted  Peaches,  as 
she  had  been  doing  for  days. 

Mickey  looked  at  her,  then  up  at  Peter,  who  had  en- 
tered and  come  to  them. 

" Did  you?"  eagerly  asked  Peter  of  the  child. 

Peaches  nodded  proudly.  "To  meet  Mickey,"  she 
triumphed.  "I  wouldn't  for  anybody  else  first!  The 
longest  piece  yet  I  And  it  didn't  hurt  and  I  didn't  fall!" 

"Good!"  shouted  Peter.     "That's  the  ticket!" 

"You  look  here  Miss  Chicken,  what  do  you  mean?" 
cried  Mickey  wonderingly. 

"Oh  the  Doctor  Carrel  man  you  sent  for,  came,"  ex- 
plained Peaches,  "and  you  wasn't  there,  but  he  had  your 
name  on  the  letter  you  wrote;  he  showed  me,  so  I  came 
and  let  him  examination  me;  but  Peter  and  I  been  stand- 
ing alone,  and  taking  steps  when  nobody  was  looking. 
You've  surprised  me  joyful  so  much,  it  takes  one  as  big 
as  that  to  pay  you  back." 

Mickey  clung  to  his  treasure,  while  turning  to  Peter  an 
awed,  questioning  face. 

"That's  it!"  said  Peter.  "She's  been  on  her  feet  for 
ten  days  or  such  a  matter!" 

Mickey  appealed  to  Dr.  Carrel.  "  How  about  this  ? "  he 
demanded. 

"She's  going  to  walk,"  said  the  great  man  assuringly. 


MICKEY'S  MIRACLE  53i 

"  It's  all  over  ?  You've  performed  your  miracle  ? "  asked 
Mickey. 

"Yes,"  said  Dr.  Carrel.  "It's  all  over  Mickey;  but 
you  had  the  miracle  performed  before  I  saw  her,  lad." 

Mickey  retreated  to  Peaches'  neck  again,  while  she 
smiled  over  and  comforted  him. 

"Mickey,  I  knew  you'd  be  crazy,"  she  said.  "I  knew 
you'd  be  glad,  but  I  didn't  know  you  could  be  so " 

Mickey  took  her  in  his  arms  a  second,  then  slowly  re- 
covered his  feet  and  a  small  amount  of  self-possession. 
Again  he  turned  to  the  surgeons. 

"Are  you  sure?     Will  it  hurt  her?     Will  it  last?"" 

"Very  sure,"  said  Dr.  Carrel.  "Calm  yourself,  lad. 
Her  case  is  not  so  unusual;  only  more  aggravated  than 
usual.  I've  examined  her  from  crown  to  sole,  and  she's 
straight  and  sound.  You  have  started  her  permanent 
cure;  all  you  need  is  to  keep  on  exactly  as  you  are  go- 
ing, and  limit  her  activities  so  that  in  her  joy  she  doesn't 
overdo  and  tire  herself.  You  are  her  doctor.  I  Congrats 
ulateyou!" 

Dr.  Carrel  came  forward,  holding  out  his  hand,  and 
Mickey  took  it  with  the  one  of  his  that  was  not  grip- 
ping Peaches  and  said,  "Aw-a-ah!"  but  he  was  a  radiant 
boy. 

"Thank  you  sir,"  he  said.  "Thank  everybody.  But 
thank  you  especial,  over  and  over.  I  don't  know  how  I'll 
ever  square  up  with  you,  but  I'll  pay  you  all  I  have  to 
start  on.  I've  some  money  I've  saved  from  my  wages, 
and  I'll  be  working  harder  and  earning  more  all  the  time." 

"But  Mickey,"  protested  the  surgeon,  "you  don't  owe 


532  MICHAEL  O'HALLORAN 

me  anything.  I  didn't  operate!  You  had  the  work  done 
before  I  arrived.  I  would  have  come  sooner,  but  I  knew 
she  couldn't  be  operated,  even  if  her  case  demanded  it, 
until  she  had  gained  more  strength 

He  was  watching  Mickey's  face  and  he  read  aright,  so 
he  continued:  "I  liked  that  suggestion  you  made  in  your 
letter  very  much.  Something  'coming  in  steadily'  is  a 
good  thing  for  any  man  to  have.  For  the  next  three 
months,  suppose  you  send  me  that  two  dollars  a  week  you 
offered  me  if  I'd  come.  How  would  that  be  ? " 

Mickey  gathered  Peaches  in  his  arms  and  looked  over 
his  shoulder  as  he  started  on  the  homeward  trip. 

"Thank  you  sir,"  he  said  tersely.  "That  would  be 
square." 


THE    END 


A     000  056  974     9 


